


The Fairy Prince

by Racey



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:43:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 66,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22334374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racey/pseuds/Racey
Summary: Grimmjow is one of the last of his kind to survive the massacre of his people. With an evil tyrant after him, he is sent to an entirely different world, where he meets Ichigo Kurosaki, an innocent college student.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	1. Destruction of Eloria

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

The crystal palace stood tall and proud not far in the distance, shining magnificently in the afternoon sun as fluffy white clouds rolled lazily by. The grass and leaves on the trees were a vivid green, the lake nearby was as blue as the sky, and the smell lingering in the air was sweet from all of the blooming cherry blossoms.

Grimmjow loved the spring. It was probably his favorite season of them all. He lay sprawled on his back spread-eagled under the giant willow tree, a few feet from the pond his mother had named "Serenity", enjoying the warm breeze passing through the ancient tree's drooping branches.

It was hard to believe that this day was sure to be such an unpleasant one. If only he could turn the hands of time backwards, preventing this day from ever occurring, that would be ideal. Sighing deeply, he ran his long fingers through the thick grass he was resting on and wished things could be different. That _he_ could be different.

"There you are! Father was getting worried," an energetic female voice chirped.

"Yes, I'm sure he was," Grimmjow replied dryly.

"Oh, Brother, don't be that way! Father only wants what's best for you!"

"Father knows _nothing_ of what's best for me! If he did, he wouldn't be forcing me into something I absolutely don't want!" he retorted hotly. _He was sick of everyone saying the same thing_.

"But-"

"Little Sister, was there something you wanted? Or did you come just to annoy me?"

Grimmjow's younger sister sucked her teeth and plopped onto the ground beside him. She immediately began staring off into the distance, disappearing into her own little world. He couldn't believe how time had flown. Neliel was no longer the bouncy five-year old he remembered, but a young woman of seventeen.

Grimmjow used the silent moment to absorb his little sister's appearance. She was tall for her age, curvaceous, with wide gray eyes and long sea-green hair. She wore a long, silk powder-blue gown and the silver armband that proudly displayed their family's crest.

"I love your hair, Brother," Nel whispered as she passed a small hand through his long, blue locks. Grimmjow sighed. This was a conversation they'd had many a time.

"Thank you."

"I wish I had Mother's blue hair instead of Father's sickly green," she pouted. He chuckled softly, completely agreeing with her, but for entirely different reasons.

"We can't help how we were born," he said quietly as he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "Besides, the green doesn't look sickly on you. It looks lovely."

Neliel beamed at him and leaned forward to smother him in a tight embrace, planting kisses all over his face. Grimmjow flailed his arms and tried to pry the over-exuberant girl from himself. Finally, she giggled and sat back on her heels, then looked around with a puzzled expression.

"Brother, where is your shadow?" Grimmjow cracked a grin, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

"It's called 'best friend', stupid!" Nnoitra sneered, as he dropped to the ground from a nearby tree and stalked towards them.

"Nooooo, best friends don't creep in the distance the way you do," Neliel retorted.

"I'm only givin' the prince his space, which _you_ would know nothin' about!"

Grimmjow's smile widened as Neliel leaped to her feet, and the two faced off, glaring daggers at each other. Shaking his head, he stood, brushing the dirt from his ash-gray pants, and stepped between his sister and best friend.

"Do you absolutely _have_ to argue everytime you're near each other?" he asked exasperatedly, then strode away towards the palace, his long blue hair swishing behind him. _They could be children on their own time_.

XOXOXO

"Aizen, sir, today is the prince's twenty-first birthday," Ulquiorra reported. "The king is holding a banquet to formally introduce the prince to his fiance."

"Wonderful. Are the troops ready, Ulquiorra?"

"Yes, sir. They await your orders in the courtyard."

"Have them move out at sunset. Leave only the prince alive," Aizen commanded.

"Yes, sir."

Ulquiorra bowed and quickly strode from the throne room. Aizen snapped the fingers of his right hand, and a silver-haired man slowly approached him, his head hanging, arms and ankles shackled. His hair was disheveled, and his clothes dirty and hanging from his thin frame.

"Will you behave, Gin?" Aizen asked softly. Gin nodded slowly as if contemplating his answer. "Have we forgotten our manners, Gin?"

"No, sir. I will behave, Aizen, sir."

Aizen smiled, then gestured with the index and middle fingers of his left hand, for a brown-skinned man wearing a white bandana across his eyes. He was rumored to be blind, but Aizen knew better. His long, black hair was kept loose and flowing over his broad shoulders. The man stepped towards Gin, making the silver-haired man flinch.

"Now, now, he won't bite," Aizen stated soothingly.

Gin stood as still as death while the dark-haired man released his shackles. He rubbed his wrists in relief of the lifted pressure as he glanced at Aizen, who only sent a warm smile his way.

"That's all Tousen, thank you."

"Yes, Aizen, sir," Tousen stated as he too left the throne room.

"Come here, Gin." Once the thin man approached him, Aizen reached out, and gripping Gin's waist, drew him down into his lap. "There, that's better, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

Gin rarely spoke if he could help it, and Aizen admired his stubbornness; besides, talking wasn't really required for what he wanted from the silver-haired man. He began placing small kisses across Gin's jaw, reveling in the way he tensed and stilled.

"Do loosen up, Gin. I won't harm you unless you fight me," he murmured against the younger man's neck.

"Yes, sir."

Aizen cracked a grin. After tonight, he would no longer have any use for Gin, as he had every intention of gaining a much better pet. The blue-haired fairy prince would look lovely beside him in Las Noches, and he couldn't wait.

XOXOXO

"Mother, this is wrong!" Grimmjow stated fiercely, as he crossed his arms defiantly. "I won't fuckin' do it!"

"Grimmjow, your language is repulsive. I understand why you're angry, but you were born with certain duties and obligations," Minere Jaegerjaques explained quietly, her gray eyes shining intensely.

"It's not fair. I don't want to marry a woman I'll only have just met this day. As a matter of fact, I don't even li-"

"Bite your tongue!" his mother hissed urgently, stepping closer to him. "You _dare_ , with your father in the next room?"

"I'm sorry, Mother. It's true though, and that makes this whole stupid shit wrong," he whispered vehemently.

Minere held her arms open, and he instantly stepped into them, sighing as he did so. Grimmjow's mother was the only one aware of his sexual distaste towards women, and that he preferred the same gender. She never judged him or made him feel dirty or dispicable. He breathed in the scent of roses emanating from her long blue hair, and slowly relaxed his tense muscles.

"Grimmjow, you must be strong. You need to marry in order to continue the royal blood line, and your father _will_ see it done."

"I know."

At that moment, his father entered the room, dramatically throwing open the door and striding towards them. His shoulder-length sea-green hair skimmed his broad shoulders, while his piercing blue eyes locked onto Grimmjow, making him feel like he was being seen right through.

"Ahh, my son! Are you well on this day?" he asked, entirely too loudly. Grimmjow's ears were still ringing.

"Yes, Father, are you?"

"Of course! After all, my only son is being introduced to his future bride!"

Grimmjow resisted the urge to scowl, and instead only nodded. _It really wouldn't make sense to argue with the stubborn buffoon_.

"Come, come! The guests have already begun arriving!" King Roderic continued to bellow.

Grimmjow glanced at his mother and shook his head, Minere smiling and shrugging delicately. They moved into the huge dining hall that was already filled to capacity with what looked to be the entire fairy population. Suddenly, cool fingers wrapped around Grimmjow's forearm, and he glimpsed over to see Neliel smiling up at him. He returned the gesture, and followed his parents to the raised platform at the end of the long hall.

As his family passed, all the attendants bowed and became silent, young girls pointing at Grimmjow and giggling, while the young males ogled Neliel. He strangled the urge to bare his teeth at them. She was still his little sister, and even though she annoyed the hell out of him, he was still overly protective of her.

Eventually, the family made its way to the platform, and was seated at the formal dining table. Grimmjow was counting down, entire body being consumed with a sick foreboding sensation.

His sharp ears picked up a strange grinding noise outside of the palace, right before the west wall of the dining hall collapsed. Every fairy surged to its feet, glaring at the destroyed wall. Grimmjow drew his sword, and snarled. Something wasn't right. There was an eerie silence before hell turned over, and everything became pandemonium.

All of a sudden, a loud wailing war cry erupted from the gaping hole in the wall, and what seemed like hundreds of men bearing swords and bows and arrows, flooded the dining hall. Before Grimmjow could react, there was a sickening, wet thud from beside him, and he turned to see his father clutching his throat, as blood spurted and poured from a wound created by an arrow. Eyes wild, he grabbed Neliel and spun away from the table, leading her to a large door that led to the private gardens of the palace.

"Get out of here, Neliel! Go! I've gotta help Mother, and I can't do that worrying about you too!" he yelled frantically.

Suddenly, large hands gripped Neliel's shoulders from behind, making Grimmjow point his sword and growl.

"You wanna die?"

"Shutup, dumbass! Go help your mother!" Nnoitra snapped, stepping out of the shadows.

Grimmjow breathed a sigh of relief and nodded, before running back towards the large dining table at which his family had been seated. The gruesome sight beyond the table, showed most of the fairies lying about, either dead or dying. Minere was huddled over his father's steadily disintegrating body, tears pouring from her haunted gray eyes. She was only a few feet away, when an arrow was embedded into her chest. Grimmjow screamed, reaching his arms out, but was snatched away by an extremely thin, silver-haired man.

He fought desperately, twisting and thrashing, but his arms were held down by the surprisingly strong man. Then his eyes landed on the pointed ears of his captor, and he calmed his struggles.

"Your Highness, allow me to help you! There is nothing that can be done for everyone else! Please!" the man cried.

"My mother!" Grimmjow yelled. "Help her!"

"I can't. She's already gone, Your Highness!"

Turning back, Grimmjow realized with horror that his dear mother was slowly becoming dust as well. He squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

_His parents. His people. Why had this happened?_

"Please, Your Highness, you must leave this place! Our race's fate depends on you and your sister!"

 _Grimmjow didn't care_. He probably shouldn't trust this man, but nothing mattered. It certainly didn't matter if he lived or died, since he had no intention to be with a woman, and men didn't bear children with other men. Fairy or otherwise. Grimmjow was in a state of shock from witnessing the deaths of his parents, and the reality of it all had yet to really sink in.

The silver-haired man led him into the private gardens, where Nnoitra waited with Neliel in the shadows. Neliel stepped forward anxiously when she spotted Grimmjow, tears tracking down her face.

"Brother, where is Mother?" she whimpered, and he grimaced as pain washed over him, leaving him unable to meet her eyes. _Mother's eyes_.

Neliel's soft sobs echoed through the silent gardens at his nonreply. _Grimmjow had been right there! A few more feet and he could've saved her!_ His chest clenched and his heart ached. _So unfair!_

"Please stand over here, Your Highness," the silver-haired man said softly.

"Who are you?" Nnoitra demanded.

"I am Gin. Gin Ichimaru, son of Touran Ichimaru."

"The fuckin' sorceror?" Nnoitra continued.

"Yes, but please hurry! They're coming!" the man named Gin urged.

"Who is 'they'?" Neliel inquired through her tears. "And why did they do this?"

Gin held up a thin hand and snapped his fingers. All of a sudden, a black rip formed in the air beside him. It appeared to be a hole of nothingness. Grimmjow's eyes widened as he stepped closer to Gin, and studied the void.

"What is this?" he demanded.

"L-La Garganta?" Nnoitra breathed. "I thought those were a myth!"

"They are not. Step forward. You all must go," Gin ordered.

"What. The. Fuck. Is. This?" Grimmjow reiterated.

"La Garganta are portals to another world, supposedly," Nnoitra explained.

"Not supposedly. They are. Now hurry!"

Nnoitra pushed Neliel forward gently. It was the nicest Grimmjow had ever seen him behave towards his little sister.

"Why must we leave our home? Everything we know is here!" Neliel argued defiantly.

"There is a very dangerous man trying to destroy the fairy race. He has a vast army and he's extremely powerful. You must not let him succeed in extinguishing our people!" Gin cried adamantly. "Please, Princess!"

Neliel swallowed, then nodded as she stepped forward to the void. Grimmjow and Nnoitra followed right behind her, and just as Neliel disappeared into the darkness, an arrow sunk into Grimmjow's right shoulder. He cried out in pain, and Nnoitra caught him before he could fall.

"Take this! Find the person on this paper once you get to the other world! He can help you! Now go! And save the prince!" Gin commanded, as he stuffed a scrap of paper into Nnoitra's pocket.

Grimmjow clung to Nnoitra's shoulder, pain making his vision fuzzy. All he remembered was stepping into the void, and a stifling blackness overwhelming him.

XOXOXO

"Eh? What are ya talkin' about, I take the trash out all the time!" Shinji argued.

"Bullshit, Shin! I have to force you to do it! Nevermind the dishes!" Ichigo scolded.

Ichigo couldn't believe the sloppiness of his best friend and roommate. They had been living together for a little over three months, and Ichigo was already losing his mind. Both students at the local university, they roomed together to share the rent, therefore making it easier to live off campus. The campus dorms were like prison cells, and Ichigo had absolutely refused to stay in one.

"Ichi, you're exaggerating! Anyway, what's for dinner?" Shinji asked, as he unlocked the door to the modest apartment, and the two stepped inside.

Ichigo's response died in his throat, when he flicked the light on, Shinji squeaking with fright beside him. In the middle of the living room floor, lay a bleeding blue-haired male, with a crying green-haired girl hovering over him. Standing in front of the both of them, was an extremely tall man with a black cloth tied over his left eye. He had shoulder-length black hair, and was pointing a menacing looking sword at Shinji and Ichigo.

Then he said something that Ichigo completely didn't understand, so he chanced a look at Shinji. He was equally clueless.

"Ichi...what the eff?"

"I have no fuckin' idea," he breathed.


	2. The Other Side of the Looking Glass

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_It was madness_. That was the only way Ichigo could think to describe the sight before him. A tall, skinny man pointing a long sword, while standing over a bleeding, blue-haired man, and a crying green-haired girl. Somehow, he'd gone to sleep, while he and Shinji were entering the apartment, and this was a dream. _Yeah, just a dream_.

"Ichi...what the eff?" Shinji asked.

 _A dream that Shinji was having as well_.

"I have no fuckin' idea," Ichigo breathed.

The tall, skinny man snarled and brandished his sword, when Ichigo took a step forward. He went on speaking that strange gibberish, but Ichigo had to piss. Badly.

"Fuck, Shin, I gotta piss!" he whispered, and Shinji, _that little bastard_ , giggled.

"I suggest the floor, 'cause he ain't lettin' ya move."

"...What part of that is funny? And whose idea of a joke is this? And who the _fuck_ even uses swords anymore? This isn't the fuckin' fuedal era!" Ichigo ranted, agitation escalating with each question, while Shinji just laughed. "Shin, are you _high_? This shit isn't funny!"

"Don't get pissy with _me_!" Shinji returned, and upon realization of what he said, dissolved into laughter. Again.

Just then, the green-haired girl cried out, as she gripped the blue-haired male's injured shoulder, and gently shook. Soft sobs racked her slender frame, as she covered her face with her hands. It was then that Shinji got serious.

"Oi, Urahara'll kill us if a guy dies in here," he whispered. Ichigo nodded, the urge to relieve himself now forgotten.

He was so fucking grateful to be a med student, at that moment. Also, for all of those years of helping his old man out at the family clinic. It would definitely come in handy. Ichigo straightened his back, instantly going into what his little sister, Yuzu, called his "doctor mode".

He started forward, but tall guy swung the sword around to point at his chest, and he pulled up short. Annoyance flared and spread across Ichigo's face.

"I'm trying to help him," he tried soothingly. Tall guy frowned, then looked back at the green-haired girl uncertainly, as if asking her what Ichigo had said.

Suddenly, Shinji pushed forward, face stormy and hands on his narrow hips.

"Look!" He jabbed a finger in tall guy's direction. "Ichi only wants to help your friend." He pointed from Ichigo to the male stretched out on the floor for emphasis. "Ichi, go get your shit, I'll distract him."

Ichigo glared at the back of Shinji's head and growled. _What did he have planned?_ A low, but deep groan emanated from the floor where the injured man lay. _Fuck it. He couldn't just sit back and allow someone to die in front of him, Samurai Jack be damned._

Ichigo hurried to the linen closet in the bathroom, grabbed his first aid kit, and headed back into the living room, only to damn near topple over in shock.

 _His friend had clearly lost his fucking mind_.

Shinji stood a couple of feet in front of the tall guy, who now had his sword sheathed at his side, and was wearing a look that was a mixture of shock and amusement. Why, you ask?

Because Shinji was clad only in his underwear, which, embarrassingly, turned out to be a purple fucking thong with little pink hearts all over.

 _Jesus Christ, Shin_.

Shinji noticed the look Ichigo was sending him, and shrugged, wearing a sheepish grin.

"I had to do somethin'," he stated.

"I don't even wanna know," Ichigo mumbled, as he slowly edged toward the injured male.

Tall guy instantly bristled and reached for his sword, but the green-haired girl jumped to her feet, and grabbed his hand that was resting on the sword's hilt. They began arguing in that strange language, but when the girl pointed at Ichigo, and then to the kit he carried, tall guy immediately stopped fussing.

Ichigo started forward again and noticed tall guy didn't move, but his glare didn't lessen either. Ichigo knelt beside the blue-haired male, and had to suppress a gasp. The blunet turned bleary-yet gorgeous-blue eyes up to him, squinted, then instantly passed out.

Ichigo swallowed nervously as he studied the wound. It was pretty deep, but, unfortunately, whatever had pierced his shoulder hadn't gone through. At least, he didn't think so. He needed to turn him over, but he would need help to do so. Ichigo glanced over his shoulder at Shinji, glad to see the idiot had put his clothes back on.

"Shin, I need to lift him to see if there's an exit wound," he stated, knowing Shinji would understand the implied request.

Shinji narrowed his eyes at tall guy, before moving forward to assist Ichigo. He knelt beside the blunet's head, and gently grasped the broad shoulder.

"Ready?" Ichigo asked, taking hold of the larger male's rock-hard bicep, the skin surprisingly soft. Shinji nodded. "Go."

With no small amount of difficulty, they turned the male slightly to the side. Like Ichigo had suspected, there was no exit wound, but, what looked like the cause of the wound, was trapped beneath his body, as if it had been pulled out and discarded. _An arrow? What the fuck? Damn, but this guy was heavy_.

Once they settled him back to the floor, Ichigo asked Shinji to fetch him a bowl and clean towels. While the blond scurried off, he took that time to sit back on his heels, and look the blue-haired male over.

Tall. He had to be at least 6'1", 6'2". He was fucking ripped, but not obscene like those idiots that posed in competitions and shit, wearing nothing but tiny speedos. Ichigo barely suppressed a shudder. _Gross_.

No, this guy had just enough muscle to make one drool, er, _admire_. He was wearing weird clothes that consisted of an ash-gray, sleeveless top, and matching pants that seemed to be tucked into what looked like athletic tape, at the knee. The tape wrapped all the way down to his ankles, where his feet were clad in waraji. (The shinigami sandals) He too had a sword strapped at his side, but a strange-looking silver band was wrapped around his right upper arm. _Wonder what that's about_.

When Ichigo observed his face, he felt small shivers creeping up and down his spine. _The man was beautiful_. Smooth, flawless skin, a straight regal nose, full, soft-looking lips, and those ocean-blue eyes. Then, Ichigo's eyes wandered to the mile-long, bright blue hair that fanned around him. He was sorely tempted to run his fingers through it, but he'd rather not die yet, and from the dark looks being sent his way from tall guy, he had a feeling that's what would happen.

Shinji bounded over and placed the items on the floor beside Ichigo, eyebrow cocked and eyes glinting with amusement. Ichigo frowned, avoiding the seemingly all-knowing gaze and went to work. He hated that Shinji caught him checking the guy out.

He was in the middle of stitching up the wound, when his eyes strayed to his patient's ear, and his movements stilled. What. The. _Fuck?_ Ichigo blinked several times, still staring, his mouth open in shock. The blue locks had fallen to the side, exposing the ear that had been previously hidden, and Ichigo just knew his mind had said "fuck you" and danced out of his head. _He was staring at a pointed ear_.

Ichigo giggled, causing Shinji to glance at him uncertainly. It really wasn't funny, but if he hadn't have laughed, he probably would be tearing his hair from his scalp in large chunks. He was _not_ crazy. Nope. _So, why the fuck was that pointed ear still there?_ It was mocking him, taunting him, chanting "you're losing your mind" in a sing-song voice.

He took a deep, cleansing breath, and absolutely _refused_ to look anywhere near that lying ass ear. _Focus on the job at hand. Stitch up this wound and patch up the guy's shoulder. Then what?_

"Shin, what the fuck are we gonna do with these people? They're obviously not from around here," Ichigo whispered. Shinji sucked his teeth.

"First of all, stop whispering! They can't understand a word we're saying, just like we can't understand them. Secondly, what the fuck're we _supposed_ to do?"

"Well, we can't just let them roam the streets! I mean, these two have swords for shit's sake!" Ichigo snapped. "And, this guy is gonna need to rest."

"Fine, Mother Theresa, where do you propose they sleep? The floor? 'Cause they sure as hell ain't comin' in my room! Like you said, they have fuckin' swords, and I'd like to wake up _not_ thinly sliced and ready for roasting!"

Ichigo snorted and went back to his task. No longer than ten minutes had passed, when he was cleaning the area one last time, and wrapping the wound in gauze. Once he was done, he sat back on his heels, but was suddenly tackled backwards. The green-haired girl had thrown herself at Ichigo, smothering him with overzealous kisses and hugging him tightly. He had to resist the overwhelming urge to dry-heave from such close female contact.

 _Get away, get away, get awaaaaay_.

She finally relinquished her hold, and moved over to tall guy, smiling happily. _Jesus, she was strong as fucking hell_. Ichigo slowly sat up, trying hard not to glare at the girl, and collected his used equipment. After taking the bowl to the sink, and replacing the kit in its place in the bathroom, he went back to the living room.

 _So, now they were back to square one_. The blunet had to rest, and Ichigo was damned sure that the other two weren't going to leave him there. He sighed, coming to an inevitable conclusion, and Shinji, as if reading his mind, again sucked his teeth, and planted his hands on his hips.

"Your good samaritan shit is gonna get ya killed one day!" Ichigo just glared, and Shinji finally relented. "Fine! BUT! I take Stick, 'cause he is sorta...hot, and if I gotta have one of them in my room, I'd rather it be him. Even if he could slice me to bits, at least I'd die happy, not to mention, satisfied," Shinji waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and grinned.

"No! Don't you think that's the last thing we need right now? If you're that fuckin' horny, go fuck Stark! He wants you pretty badly," Ichigo argued. There was no way he was going to let his best friend sleep with a stranger, that could very well kill them both.

"I never knew you were a cockblocker, Ichi," Shinji said with a pout.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, but realized another dilemma. _How the fuck were they gonna move the heavy and very unconscious male?_ He wasn't a pushover, neither was Shinji, but...this guy was probably heavy even before he became dead weight.

Ichigo chanced a glance at tall guy, started to speak, but changed his mind upon seeing the unfriendly glare being sent, and beckoned the girl over instead. She cocked her head to the side and edged closer, gray eyes wide and gleaming. Ichigo pointed at Blue, and then waved his hand in the universal "follow me" gesture, as he headed for his bedroom.

The girl nodded, and after a few words with tall guy, followed Ichigo. He frowned. _That wasn't really what he meant_. He turned to correct her, and his mouth dropped open when he realized tall guy was carrying Blue. Bridal style, no less. _What the fuck?_ His wide eyes moved to Shinji, relieved to see that he was just as dumbfounded. _Who the hell were these people? Where the fuck were they from?_

Ichigo led them to his room on stiff legs, and pointed at his bed. Even though it was a queen-sized western-styled bed, and would fit the both of them easily, the guy was a stranger. Plus, it was a little rude to put an injured man on the floor. So, he'd set up his extra futon beside the bed, and sleep there.

Tall guy settled Blue on the bed, while the girl removed his sword, and propped it against the nightstand. _Really, who carried swords these days?_ These three were a weird bunch, and although they made Ichigo nervous, he wouldn't just turn them out on the streets with nowhere to go, and an injured comrade to boot. With a last glance at Blue, he decided to continue ignoring the issue of that pointed ear he'd seen earlier, and go take a shower.

 _Fuck, he needed some sleep_.

XOXOXO

Gin Ichimaru stood before Aizen and his troops, wearing a slick grin. He'd only allowed himself to be used in order to keep tabs on Aizen, then thwart his intentions at the last moment, and that plan had gone off without a hitch.

Aizen was naive. Yes, Gin was a fairy, but his father had also been a very powerful sorcerer, and had only seen fit to teach his only son everything he knew. Including La Garganta.

The wind picked up, ruffling his short silver locks, and whistling through the surrounding trees of the crystal palace's private gardens. The silence was thick, no one daring to move for fear of repercussions from Aizen, who was, at the moment, staring benignly at Gin. Gin knew better, though. _Aizen was furious_. He could see it in the tense muscles, and the way his hands twitched at his sides every so often.

"Are you going to kill me, Sosuke Aizen?" Gin taunted, his smile widening.

"Yes. Just like I did with your filthy father," the brown-haired man drawled, his lips curving into a small grin.

Gin knew Aizen was trying to get a rise out of him then make him lose his focus, and even knowing that, he still couldn't suppress the pursing of his lips and the flashing of his scarlet eyes. He hated Aizen with a white-hot passion. Gin would be the one to kill him one day, but unfortunately, today was not that day. _There was much work to be done_.

"Yes, well, sadly, I can't allow you to do that. Besides," he started, as he withdrew a small pouch from the inside pocket of his long, magenta robes. "I'll be the one killing you."

With that, he tossed the pouch to Aizen, and disappeared in a wisp of silver smoke. _Let's see what he does with that_.

XOXOXO

Aizen was not pleased. _Not one little bit_. To think that Gin was strong enough to create La Garganta and assist the fairy prince and princess to another world, was utterly preposterous, and yet, it had occurred. _Unacceptable_.

His reflexes alone caused him to catch the small object Gin tossed to him, and he should have known better, because upon contact with it, the leather casing melted into a shiny, dark liquid, and started crawling up his forearm. Eyes wide, he tried to wipe the strange substance away, but that only served to spread it to his opposite arm. All at once...it stopped. The shimmering, black liquid covered both arms completely, ending at the shoulders, but didn't progress from there.

Frowning in confusion and a small sense of dread, all he could do was stare at the offending presence. Then, the pain began. It started as a dull throb, but soon escalated into an all-out searing sting that refused to let up. Aizen prided himself on normally being able to mask his true emotions and reactions, however, this pain, this _hurt_...was unbearable.

He grit his teeth, and fell to his knees, body breaking into a cold sweat. _Damned sorcerer! He would die!_ Aizen glanced back at Tousen, who was rushing to his side.

"T-Tousen, find Ichimaru. B-bring him to me alive!" he ordered, before the pain consumed him, and darkness overwhelmed him.

XOXOXO

His shoulder ached, but it didn't throb and sting unbearably as before. He opened his eyes slowly to take in his surroundings, and like a speeding arrow, he recalled what had happened, and that it had not been a dream, if where he now lay was any indication.

_Mother. Father. His people. What the fuck?_

All he remembered was slipping in and out of consciousness in an unfamiliar and extremely bizarre place, Neliel hovering over him crying, while Nnoitra stood protectively over them both.

He sat up, grimacing as his shoulder pulsed, then settled into a dull ache. He reached up with his left hand and realized that he was bandaged. _Perhaps that was why the pain had eased drastically_. His head turned, surveying the room he was in, and suddenly, the image of an orange-haired male leaped to the forefront of his mind. _Who was that?_

Grimmjow had only seen glimpses of bright orange hair, and warm, kind brown eyes, hidden by a fierce scowl. He chuckled. Interesting. He swung his legs over the side of the large bed and went to stand, but immediately fell face-forward, tripping over a very solid object on the floor.

"What the hell?" he grumbled, as he broke his fall on his uninjured side. His eyes widened when they landed on orange hair.

The once sleeping male, was rubbing his eyes as he sat up, and glared darkly at Grimmjow, before realization seemed to kick in, and his eyes widened. Grimmjow pulled himself into an indian-styled sitting position, and cocked his head to the side, as they considered one another.

 _The boy was handsome_. Soft, brown eyes-still dulled from sleep-gazed back at him from a youthful face. He had full lips, a straight nose that was slightly upturned at the tip, and that bright orange hair. Grimmjow smiled, and noticed the boy's eyes widen further in shock.

"What's your name?" he asked. The boy cocked an eyebrow, and said something he didn't even remotely understand, making him stare back blankly. _What?_

The boy sighed, and rubbed a hand over his face, before trying again. _Yeah, still a no-go_. This time Grimmjow lifted an eyebrow and blinked. Surprisingly, the boy laughed an entirely too contagious laugh, making Grimmjow grin as well. He couldn't understand the boy, but, he was fucking adorable. His brown eyes lit up when he laughed and, upon closer inspection, Grimmjow noticed freckles spread across his nose and cheeks.

 _Maybe this world wasn't so bad_.

Suddenly, Neliel launched herself at him from the open doorway, taking him to the floor, and jarring his wound.

"Brother!" she screeched, damn near making his ears bleed.

"Neliel, my arm, stupid!" he gasped, and shoved her away.

"Ah! I'm so sorry, Brother, I'm just so glad you're ok!"

Grimmjow noticed the tears clinging to her eyelashes, and sighed, before hugging her back. He had to remember that Neliel was still fairly young, and had lost almost everything she'd known, as well. He could understand her fear.

"'Bout fuckin' time!" Nnoitra said from the doorway. "I thought I was gonna have to drag yer ass outta here!"

Grimmjow lifted a brow, seeing right through Nnoitra's temper tantrum, and straight to the discomfort he tried to hide beneath it. Suddenly, a short blond male appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but a scanty pair of pink shorts. _What the hell was this?_

He also spoke the same way the orange-haired boy did, and Grimmjow assumed that to be the language of this new world. The blond and the red head-who was now standing-seemed to be arguing back and forth, if the twin scowls they wore were any indication.

His mind was on something else entirely. The red head was wearing a form-fitting white shirt, and a pair of gray...shorts? They were molded to his skin, and left very little to the imagination. Grimmjow licked his lips and grinned lecherously. _He liked this manner of clothing very much_.

The boy's body was slim but toned, and his skin was tanned and smooth-looking. He'd been staring so intently, he hadn't noticed the silence, until it was broken by a loud, snorting laugh.

Grimmjow located the source and found it to be the short blond. He was crowing, and grasping his stomach, gripping the wooden doorframe, and sinking to the floor. When Grimmjow glanced back at the red head, he noticed the beautiful face covered in a bright red blush.

 _Ah. He understood now. He had embarrassed him with his staring. Hunh_.

Instead of being apologetic, he raised a brow and smirked at the red head, causing the blush to spread down to his neck, and up to his ears. This time he laughed and turned to Nnoitra, who was wearing a knowing grin.

"He's cute," he stated simply. Nnoitra tipped his head back, and cackled loudly.

"Just yer type, eh?"

"Mmhm," he hummed, his eyes openly roaming the red head's body.

"Well, he's the one that fixed yer arm." Grimmjow whipped his head around to fix Nnoitra with a level stare.

_The boy had helped him?_

He gazed at the orange-haired youth with a newly discovered respect. If the boy hadn't helped him, he probably would have lost his arm. His upbringing demanded that he owe the red head a debt.

Grimmjow slowly moved towards the boy, who took an uncertain step backwards. His face serious, he took a knee before the youth, and bowed his head.

"I owe you my well-being, and in return, am in your debt," he stated, knowing he wouldn't be understood, but still feeling the need to say it.

He raised his eyes to meet startled brown, and smiled. _Maybe being in his debt wouldn't be so bad_. He watched as the red head licked his lips nervously. _Not bad at all_.


	3. Lost in Translation

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_Baby, can't you see, I'm callin'_

_A guy like you, should wear a warnin'_

_It's dangerous, I'm fallin'_

_-Brittany Spears-_

If this gorgeous, blue-haired man didn't stop hovering over him, Ichigo was going to humiliate himself by spreading out before the delicious-looking man, naked as the day he was born. Bet Blue would understand _that_.

The tall, breath-taking, sculpted... _god_...had been sending Ichigo these scorching hot looks that had his toes curling, and his dick twitching angrily, as if to say "stop fuckin' teasin' me!". _That wasn't all though_. On top of the molten glances, Blue had been following Ichigo around the apartment none too subtly, and it had the poor red head on edge. _What was Blue trying to do here? Give him a stroke?_

 _And Shinji. God, he was going to kill the little blond asshole_. Constantly laughing and teasing him mercilessly, until Ichigo felt like his face would never be the same ever again. Between Blue and Shinji, Ichigo was surely going to be sent into cardiac arrest. _Hell, Blue was already on the verge of giving him a constant nosebleed_.

The tall, skinny guy-whom Shinji referred to as "Stick"-would give Ichigo amused smirks, before bursting into laughter and that crazy fucking language; he and Blue going back and forth, as if sharing an inside joke. The green-haired girl would just smile sympathetically, and for some reason, Ichigo felt like a piece of meat being thrown before a lion.

He was currently standing at the stove, minding his business-or rather, trying to-and fixing breakfast, the three strangers seated at the table, watching him avidly. Ichigo assumed they'd never seen a kitchen before, because three sets of eyes were glued to his every movement.

He fixed scrambled eggs, sausage, waffles with strawberry topping and whipped cream, then he set a gallon of orange juice on the table. Luckily, Ichigo always bought in bulk, because Shinji ran through orange juice like water through a napkin.

He filled their glasses, and piled their plates high with food, before seating himself at the table with his own plate. They stared at him as if he was an alien with two fucking heads, but damn all that, Ichigo was ravenous, so he picked up his fork, and dug in. Blue was the first to follow suit, holding the fork gingerly between thumb and forefinger, then stabbing a bit of egg, before bringing it up to his nose, sniffing delicately. _Oh, for the love of all things holy!_

"It won't bite you," Ichigo snapped, but then remembered they didn't understand him anyway, and rolled his eyes, as he shrugged, continuing to eat. _He wasn't going to let them deter him from his meal_.

Suddenly, there was a loud clatter, drawing Ichigo's attention. His eyes focused in on Blue's expression, and he had to bite back a bark of laughter. Blue had dropped his fork, a look of pure wonder gracing his features, as he stared reverently at Ichigo.

"Stick" furrowed his brow, picking up his fork, and shoveled in a mouthful of eggs. His one visible, deep violet eye widened, before he attacked the food with animalistic vigor. Ichigo noticed that Blue had retrieved his fork, and was eating in much the same fashion as "Stick". The green-haired girl, tentatively joined the festivities, and was soon eating just as fast and as hungrily as the other two. _It was truly a sight to see. Ever see that American movie Major Payne? Yeah, it was like that_.

Shinji shuffled into the kitchen wearing a pair of fuschia-colored skinny jeans, a white t-shirt with a rainbow across it and the words "It's a movement" written underneath said rainbow. He completed the look with white and fuchsia high-top Punk Rose sneakers. Ichigo shook his head. _Damn, Shin. Advertise much?_

Ichigo was gay, but he wasn't a girly gay. Shinji was gay, and flaming. It was embarrassing sometimes, but he and Shinji had been best friends since elementary school, so he wasn't going to disown him, no matter how much he wanted to at times. In middle school, Shinji had moved in with Kisuke Urahara, because, well, let's just say Shinji's mom wasn't a very nice lady.

Ichigo remembered the frightening tale of Shinji's mom molesting him since the age of seven. She would perform oral sex on him, then force him to do the same to her. It was disgusting, and Ichigo had been pissed beyond reason, insisting that something be done.

So, Isshin had gone to the authorities, making them arrest the little blond boy's mother, and instead of forcing Shinji into the foster system, goat face had persuaded his friend, Urahara, to take him in. Shinji had been grateful to say the least.

Kisuke Urahara was, not only Shinji's adoptive father, but also their landlord. When Ichigo had refused to be stuck in a matchbox of a dorm room, Shinji had gone to Urahara, begging quite efficiently, for the man to trust him and Ichigo enough to let them rent an apartment in the small building he owned.

After much deliberation, Urahara had finally relented, and here they were, sharing an apartment, and, very recently, three houseguests.

"Well, they seem to like your food, Ichi," Shinji stated over a mouthful of food, making Ichigo curl his lip in disgust.

"Shin, I wish you wouldn't try to talk while you've got food in your mouth. It's gross," he grumbled, as Shinji just rolled his eyes, smacking loudly on his food.

"So, Saint Ichigo, what are we gonna do with your little friends, here? I've gotta work today, so I can't babysit." Shinji placed his empty plate in the sink, and turned back to Ichigo, hands on his narrow hips.

The three strangers watched them curiously, food completely wiped clean from their plates. Ichigo caught Blue leaning back in his seat, rubbing his stomach, and wearing a devastating grin. Before he could look away, their eyes met, and Ichigo felt a forest fire start in his stomach, spreading outwards throughout the rest of his body, as Blue gave him a slick smirk. _What the fuck! How could this man that Ichigo couldn't even understand, have such an alarming effect on him?_

Ichigo averted his gaze with a blush, welcoming laughter from both Shinji and "Stick". _God, he hated both of them. It wasn't his fault Blue was sickeningly hot, and kept molesting him with his eyes...such lovely eyes.  
_

A loud knocking at the door startled everyone, but drawing more dramatic reactions from Blue and "Stick", as they shot to their feet, pulling swords and pointing them in the direction of the offending noise. Ichigo chortled shortly, before realizing that the three strangers staring warily at the door were extremely inconspicuous.

Shinji trotted over to the door, and peeked through the peep hole. His entire back stiffened, before he whirled around, eyes filled to the brim with panic, and pressed his back against the wooden portal, arms splayed across it, as if that would keep the visitor from bursting through.

"Ichi! It's Urahara!" he squeaked. Ichigo felt the blood drain from his face, as he stared back at Shinji. _Aww, damn, what the hell! This was terrible! Urahara would take one look at these people, and kick him and Shinji the fuck out_.

"What do we do?" Ichigo stage-whispered.

Shinji stormed across the floor, until he was standing right before Ichigo, and poking mercilessly at his chest with a long, thin finger.

"This is all. Your. Fucking. Fault! You just had to play the saint, and now Urahara is gonna chew my ass up like fuckin' bubblegum!"

"Shin, I'm sorry, but what were we really gonna do?" Ichigo reasoned.

More persistent knocking.

Shinji took a deep breath, looking for all the world like someone about to be executed, as he strode to the door, and threw it open.

Urahara let his all-knowing gaze rake Shinji's thin frame, before stepping into the apartment. His eyes landed on Ichigo, and his head imperceptibly nodded. Then his dark eyes stopped on the three strangers, and he cocked his head to the side considering them, before dipping into a low bow, and speaking something in their language.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Ichigo and Shinji bellowed simultaneously.

Urahara gave them a mysterious grin, and shut the door slowly. Ichigo was ready to explode. _All this time, he and Shinji thought Urahara was going to put them out for possibly harboring fugitives, when the man waltzes in speaking that strange fucking language! Not to mention, Urahara needed to explain how and why he knew that language, and more importantly, what the fuck was going on!_

"Ura-" Shinji started, clearly just as flabbergasted as Ichigo.

"Calm down, you two. I'll explain everything, but first, have a seat. I need something to drink," Urahara stated cheerfully, as if he hadn't just pitched the two friends into the fucking Twilight Zone.

Ichigo watched as the man ambled to the fridge nonchalantly, poured himself a glass of orange juice, and stopping beside himself and the three strangers, he gestured towards the couch and love seat. Ichigo followed on incredibly stiff legs, taking a seat beside Shinji on the love seat.

The other three plopped onto the couch, and Urahara sat indian-styled on the floor, behind the coffee table, pulling out his paper fan. He snapped it open and waved it back and forth past his face, and Ichigo had to smother his impatience with an imaginary blanket.

Urahara turned to the three seated on the couch, and said something that made them all break out arguing. Urahara just grinned, and turned back to Ichigo and Shinji, watching them carefully.

"Uraharaaaa," Shinji whined.

"Yes, yes, well, the thing is-how do I say this? You see...I'm not human..."

Ichigo exchanged glances with Shinji, and they both burst into laughter. _What the hell was Urahara talking about? Not human, psshht!_ Ichigo's sides hurt, and tears streamed from his eyes. _This was priceless_.

Before he or Shinji could comment though, Urahara was smiling and nodding slowly, the paper fan pausing momentarily.

"Yes, I thought you might react that way. Tell me, do humans normally have ears like this?" he asked calmly, and raised his right hand, snapping his fingers.

Where normal ears once rested, now lay pointy ears, peeking through Urahara's blond hair. Ichigo felt his head become unbelievably light, but he held his composure. Shinji, on the other hand, fainted dead away, falling back against the cushions of the love seat.

"Oh, dear," Urahara commented, still smiling, as he waved his fan.

XOXOXO

Sosuke Aizen thrashed and kicked his legs uncontrollably, as he lay in a large bed, trying to take his mind off of the dreadful pain wreaking all sorts of havoc on his arms. The black liquid rendered them immobile, _and the pain_...

 _He would kill Gin Ichimaru_. That fucking filthy little fairy from Eloria had made a complete mockery of him with his black magic. _Eloria. He hated that place_. It claimed to be the birthplace of all fairies, but Aizen didn't believe it. There was no way his clan had come from such a vulgar and selfish place.

It felt like only days had passed, when in reality, it was more like twenty years since the fall of his people. The King of Eloria had declared the clan of fairies that called themselves Roande, to be traitors, claiming they were preparing an uprising against him, and the rest of the fairies of Eloria. Like mindless sheep, they had believed him, and allowed him to dispatch the royal army, with orders to destroy any fairy belonging to Roande. Man, woman, boy or girl.

There were none that survived aside from himself.

Aizen was a Roande fairy, as were his parents and little sister. He had managed to escape the massacre, but his family had not, and from that day forward, he had vowed to gain vengeance for them, as well as his people.

For the next few years, he'd grown stronger and stronger, gathering loyal human followers from neighboring villages, and creating an army, the likes of which, Eloria had never seen. Then, he'd run across the infamous sorcerer, Touran Ichimaru, his wife and their young son, Gin. Touran, a disgusting fairy from Eloria, had seen fit to confront Aizen about his plans to decimate the entire fairy race of Eloria, thus wiping them completely from existence.

Aizen had killed the sorcerer and his wife, taking a teenage Gin as his slave. The boy had thoroughly fooled Aizen, making him believe he had no magical power, when in all actuality, he did, and was, quite frankly, much stronger than his sire, from the looks of this horrible spell.

His ultimate goal had been achieved mostly, though. There were only a handful of Elorian fairies left alive, and he had plans to rectify that very soon. _He and the beautiful, blue-haired fairy prince would be the last living fairies, if he had anything to do with it. He would make certain of it_.

XOXOXO

Gin paced the cave that doubled as his laboratory and home, very impatiently. He had been waiting for word from his only uncle for over two hours now. _He hoped nothing had gone wrong_.

He had slipped the piece of paper bearing his uncle's name into the prince's best friend's pocket, only as a safeguard. It was backup in case La Garganta screwed up the location that his father had marked as an emergency escape route.

 _His father_. Touran Ichimaru had left all of his belongings to Gin upon his death. When Gin was taken as a slave by the very man that had taken the life of his beloved parents, he had promised himself that he would become a stronger, more powerful sorcerer than his father. _He would need to be, in order to defeat Aizen_.

It had taken Gin years of using body copying spells, in order to sneak away to a cave he'd found, and was using as a hiding place for all of his father's magic scrolls, and as a laboratory for his experiments. After much practice, and intense hard work over the years, the silver-haired youth felt he was ready, and all he had needed to do was wait.

It had paid off, because he had been able to help the fairy prince and princess of Eloria escape Aizen's clutches. He'd had no choice but to send them to his uncle Kisuke Urahara, his mother's only sibling, who had left Eloria many years ago to do research, and had never returned. Now, his presence in the other world would help immensely.

The night that he'd sent the three fairies through La Garganta, he had made contact with his uncle, informing him of the situation. Kisuke had laughed, and promised to take care of things. He'd also promised to contact Gin the moment he found them, which was why Gin was currently pacing his cave. _What was the man doing?_

XOXOXO

Grimmjow stared, wide-eyed, at the older blond male that was able to speak his language. _Bizarre_. And here Grimmjow thought all people of this world spoke differently. He certainly hadn't thought there would be fairies other than himself, Neliel and Nnoitra.

"Your Highness, I was made aware of the situation at Eloria, and am here to explain things. I am Kisuke Urahara," the blond man stated.

All he was able to do was nod.

"We are the last of our race. It's continuance depends on us, as well as you and your sister," the blond continued.

Grimmjow felt like ice was sliding down his back, as he misunderstood the man's statement. Obviously, Neliel had misunderstood as well, for she stared incredulously at him, her gray eyes extremely wide.

"That's disgusting," Grimmjow growled.

"He's my brother!" Neliel yelped.

"Don't worry Princess, I'll help ya repopulate the fairy race," Nnoitra added lecherously.

Grimmjow growled, but Nnoitra threw his hands up in surrender, slim shoulders shaking with mirth. Neliel sniffed haughtily, and turned her nose upwards.

"I was just jokin'. Ya know I can't stand yer sister," Nnoitra placated.

"Good!" Neliel screeched, "I wouldn't want you anyway, not even if you were the last fairy of Eloria!"

Grimmjow tuned out the bickering, as the blond man had turned to the orange-haired boy, and began speaking.

Nnoitra had fallen over with laughter when the young blond had passed out, after seeing the older blond's ears. Grimmjow had to admit, it had been rather hilarious, but his focus was on the orange-haired male that answered to the young blond's calls of "Ichi". _He wondered if that was his name_.

He rolled it around in his mind a bit, and decided that he liked it. Grimmjow watched the boy's face go ashen at the sight of the older blond's ears, before he glanced timidly at him. Or better yet, his ears. He immediately turned away, blushing cutely, making Grimmjow grin. _Had "Ichi" seen his ears? Was that why he looked at him that way?_

Grimmjow had already taken note of the subtle differences between himself and "Ichi", as well as the young blond. Their ears were the main differences really, as far as appearances went, from what he'd derived.

Suddenly, the older blond was speaking to "Ichi", and it must have been alarming, because the red head's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs, and he turned wide brown eyes in Grimmjow's direction.

Grimmjow lifted a brow quizzically, but reclined on the soft seat, making himself comfortable, as he listened to the older blond talking to "Ichi", not understanding one word.

XOXOXO

_Urahara was fucking crazy._

_Point. Blank. Period_.

Apparently, he and the three strangers were FAIRIES. _Are you laughing yet?_ Because Ichigo had been roaring at that point. _Fairies, his ass. He might be young, but he certainly wasn't fucking stupid_.

"So, you're sayin' you're all fairies from another world called Eloria? The girl is the fairy princess? And Blue is the fairy prince? Aha, Urahara...are you high?" Ichigo asked, wiping excess tears away. Urahara chuckled, but shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, Kurosaki-kun. Whether you choose to believe me or not, is entirely up to you, but what I've told you is the truth. Have I ever lied to you before?" Ichigo gave Urahara a blank stare. "When it mattered?" Urahara corrected, wearing a small grin.

 _He was right_. Urahara had never lied to Ichigo when things were meant to be taken serious. Little white lies didn't count in this playing field. The more he tried to stomach the information, though, the more it made him feel sick. _How big was the world, really? And what other beings existed, since fairies did? But then..._

"So, what happens now?" he questioned.

"I need them to stay here. My nephew has informed me that a man named Sosuke Aizen, has destroyed the majority of the fairy race of Eloria. These three, as well as myself and my nephew, Gin, are the sole survivors. They can't be allowed to return to our homeland until Aizen is gone."

Ichigo stared, one statement ringing in his head like a church bell. "I need them to stay here." _Stay where, exactly?_

"Urahara, you don't mean they've gotta stay...with us...do you?" he asked hesitantly, fearing the answer.

"Well, there's no room in my apartment."

"Hell no! We can't even fuckin' understand them!" Shinji shouted, suddenly returning to the land of the living. Urahara shot Shinji a brief, but very scary look that made him cringe. "I mean, we can't even understand them."

"Don't worry about that! I'll have them speaking Japanese in no time," Urahara chirped.

Ichigo really had no clue what to say after that. He vaguely heard Shinji arguing with Urahara about the living arrangements, but Ichigo's gaze had been drawn to Blue. He was talking quietly with "Stick", but, as if he could feel Ichigo's stare, his piercing blue eyes met his brown, and he gulped audibly.

 _The man turned him to pudding with just looks, and Urahara wanted to teach him...Japanese?_ From what Ichigo heard, his voice was the thing wet dreams were made of, even if he couldn't understand what was being said. It still sounded sexy, er, _nice_.

_Damn. How the fuck was this going to work?_


	4. Barrier Broken

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_Ahhhhh, blessed fucking silence. Finally_. Ichigo collapsed on the couch, after arriving home from school. _The past two weeks had been pure hell on his nerves._ Blue, Stick, and the green-haired girl had driven him absolutely fucking nuts, and the terrible part was the fact that they had rarely been around during the day. They would only return from Urahara's place at night, damn near _starving_. _What the fuck! Hadn't the man seen fit to feed them?_

 _And Blue!_ Good Lord, if Ichigo thought he was bad before Urahara came into the picture, he was a million times worse now. He clung to Ichigo like a baby sloth, it was ridiculous. Not to mention, whenever he and Shinji had had conversations, Blue had been all in Ichigo's mouth like he was trying to read his lips, and that certainly didn't bode well.

Although, there had been a few hilarious instances in the past couple of weeks, that made the madness not seem so bad. _Aha! Let's backtrack, shall we?_

**Week One**

**Wednesday**

Ichigo had come home from class to a, thankfully, silent apartment, and after changing into a pair of black, basketball shorts and a black, sleeveless shirt, collapsed on the couch for a moment of relaxation. He'd just turned the tv on, when the front door exploded inwards, followed by a bright blue blur. _What the fuck?_

Ichigo sat up, eyes wide, and his heart knocking against his ribs painfully, as he looked around for the culprit that had caused the heavy apartment door to hang uselessly from its hinges. Suddenly, Blue appeared in front of him, on his knees, blue eyes enormous and pleading, as he gripped Ichigo's thighs. He glanced fearfully at the open doorway, then back at Ichigo, and shook his head desperately, speaking that odd language. _What the fucking hell, yes?_

Ichigo was, for lack of a better word, thunderstruck. He had absolutely no clue what the hell was going on, or what had Blue so frightened. At that moment, Stick and Urahara appeared in the doorway, making Blue's entire body tense, as he growled like a huge cat.

Stick was cackling like a witch, while Urahara wore a cheerful grin, and brandished a large pair of scissors. Blue pulled Ichigo to his feet, and shook him by the shoulders, none too gently, mind you, as he continued spouting his language.

"Urahara, what the fuck is wrong with this guy?" Ichigo managed, once his teeth had stopped rattling, and his head had stopped spinning from the brutal shaking.

"Kurosaki-kun, his name is Grimmjow, and...he isn't very pleased with the idea of getting his hair cut," Urahara answered, tiredly. Ichigo's eyes widened, before he scowled deeply.

"Why the hell do you wanna cut his hair? That'd be a fuckin' waste don't you think?"

Urahara raised a brow in amusement, smiling, as he stepped forward, which only tightened Blue's death grip on Ichigo's shoulders.

"Why, Kurosaki-kun, don't tell me you fancy-"

Ichigo blushed hotly and snapped, "I don't fancy anything! It's just...his hair is really long, and it would be a shame to cut it off, that's all!"

"Mm, I see." Urahara turned to Stick, spoke a few words, which resulted in Stick's menacing grin to spread, as he moved towards Ichigo and Blue. "Kurosaki-kun, please step away from Grimmjow," Urahara stated calmly.

"No. I don't see the point in cutting the man's hair if it's not what he wants," Ichigo growled, stepping in front of Grimmjow with his arms spread, as if to block Stick's advance.

 _Don't ask him why, or what exactly it was he thought he would do to prevent Stick from reaching his goal, because he really had no fucking clue_. _It made sense at the moment, and he'd always been a spontaneous kind of guy_.

Before Ichigo or Stick could make any moves, Ichigo's arms were trapped behind his back, as he was pulled out of the way, and Grimmjow was immediately tackled by Stick. _Well, shit, if Stick hadn't subdued him, who the hell?_ Then, Ichigo heard a girlish giggle, and tensed. The green-haired girl had his arms pinned behind his back in a steel grip. _What the fuck? Where did she come from?_

"Thank you, Neliel," Urahara chirped.

Ichigo watched in horror, as Stick produced several lengths of rope, and after hauling Grimmjow to one of the highbacked kitchen chairs, bound him to it tightly. Grimmjow kicked and struggled, until Stick rolled his eye, and tied the blue-haired fairy's legs to the chair as well. Grimmjow yelled continuously, and Ichigo imagined he was saying every cuss word known in his language.

"Much better," Urahara smiled, as he approached Grimmjow, who was still yelling, and glaring instant death at the blond.

Urahara proceeded to speak something to Grimmjow, distracting him, before there was the sound of a single, loud "snip". Grimmjow gave a very unmanly squeak, and watched with wide eyes, as a long section of his beautiful blue hair drifted to the floor, seemingly in slow motion. Ichigo felt bad for him.

After that, Grimmjow no longer put up a fight, staring rather dejectedly at the floor. Urahara quickly snipped away, alternating between the scissors, and a comb he'd pulled from his kimono, until Grimmjow's hair lay in a pile on the floor. It looked similar to spun silk, incredibly pretty, and Ichigo felt a sudden surge of remorse.

_Although..._

Urahara had cut Grimmjow's hair incredibly short, considering its previous length, but...it looked good on the man. _Very good, actually_. In fact, it gave him a sexy, almost bad boy kind of appearance-minus the ears of course-and Ichigo felt himself blushing, the more he stared.

Grimmjow happened to look up at that moment, catching Ichigo's appreciative gaze, and his lips slowly creased into a grin. He nodded his head, his eyebrows raised in question, and all Ichigo could do was nod back.

The girl, Neliel, finally released him, and he stormed over to Grimmjow, undoing the ropes that bound him to the chair. Once they were loose, Grimmjow's hand flew up, and ran through his newly cropped tresses, his eyes widening. He swung around in the chair, and glared down at the pile of hair, resting innocently on the floor, before a low growl erupted from his throat.

Without warning, Grimmjow was out of the seat, his hand wrapped securely around Stick's throat, as he shoved the thin man against the fridge. Boxes of cereal toppled from the top of the appliance, to the kitchen counter, while magnets clattered to the floor. Ichigo felt like now would be an excellent time to intervene, before blood was shed, and he was left to clean up the mess..

He stepped forward, wrapping his fingers around Grimmjow's flexing bicep, and shook his head, once the man turned wide blue eyes towards him. Using his free hand, Ichigo ran it through Grimmjow's disgustingly soft, blue hair, shaking free several loose strands that Urahara had missed with his comb.

Grimmjow's grip on Stick's neck slackened, but before anyone could react, he punched the living shit out of Stick, snapping the skinny man's head to the right with the force of the blow. Ichigo watched with wide eyes, as Grimmjow spat something in his language, stormed to his precious pile of blue hair, and gathered it in his arms, before stomping off, in a huff, to Ichigo's bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Ichigo had just snorted, helplessly dissolving into hysterical laughter, when Shinji stepped into the living room, eyes wide and mouth open, as he took in the destroyed door. His gaze swung to Ichigo, then to Stick, who was leaning against the refrigerator, holding his bleeding nose, and lastly to Urahara, who was still standing beside the kitchen chair Grimmjow had occupied. Scissors in hand, and a smile plastered across his face, Urahara hurriedly started for the door.

"Don't worry about the door, I'll have someone here to fix it within the hour!" he exclaimed, and swept out of the apartment.

"I-Ichi, what the eff?"

Ichigo shook his head, ambled back to the couch, and as he plopped down, grabbing the remote in the process, answered, "Grimmjow got a haircut."

"Grimmjow? Is that Blue's name?" Ichigo nodded.

"Yep."

"Oh."

**Week One**

**Friday**

Ichigo was tired. Grimmjow had kept him awake all night with his god-forsaken staring. _It was fucking unnerving_. Ichigo had awakened around three in the morning to go to the bathroom, only to see his guest's shining blue eyes watching him carefully. At that moment, Ichigo wished Grimmjow could understand him, because he let loose a wicked string of expletives that would've made a sailor blush. The blunet had only smiled, and raised a brow at him in amusement. _Motherfucker_.

That morning, Ichigo had gone to class, as per usual, trudging into the apartment around four in the afternoon, dead on his feet. His professors had been exceptionally boring that day, putting Ichigo to sleep with ease.

The apartment was dead silent, so Ichigo thought he was alone, and almost whooped for joy, but he was too fucking tired. He did have to piss though. He trudged to the bathroom, flinging the door wide, and froze in his tracks, mouth falling open. Oh. Hell. No.

"SHINJI, WHAT THE FUCK!" Ichigo bellowed, as he backed out of the bathroom.

"Oh, shit!" Shinji yelped, pulling the shower curtain closed.

Ichigo wanted to burn his eyes right out of his head. If he could rewind time, this would be the moment in his life that he would re-do. Shinji had been bent at the waist, bracing his hands against the shower wall, as Stick pounded into him quite fervently from behind.

Ichigo had backed away so quickly, his foot got caught in the rug, and he fell back, landing hard on his ass. _Oww_. He cursed up a storm, as the bathroom door was slammed shut.

"Why didn't you lock the fucking thing in the first place, you nympho!" Ichigo shrieked.

Suddenly, the front door, as well as his bedroom door, opened at the same time. Ichigo was still rooted to the spot on the floor, in front of the bathroom door. Grimmjow emerged from Ichigo's bedroom, rubbing his eyes, and wearing nothing but a pair of gray boxers, his hair a sexy mess. _Jesus Christ on a fucking crutch_.

Neliel stepped through the front door, wearing a wide, friendly grin, and a dark blue t-shirt with black jeans. She was barefoot, and carrying a few grocery bags, that she placed on the kitchen table, eyeing Ichigo the whole while.

Ichigo slowly rose from the floor, chanting to himself that he would turn Shinji into tomato paste, and headed for his bedroom. He didn't even have to relieve himself anymore. Grimmjow gave him a concerned glance, as he stepped out of Ichigo's way. Ichigo ignored the look, and stomped into his room, steaming like a fresh pot of rice. _He couldn't believe Shinji! Damn, at least have the decency to do that shit in the privacy of the bedroom_.

Ichigo grabbed a pale green t-shirt and darker green pajama pants, from the bottom drawer of his dresser, and began to undress, completely unaware of his audience...until Grimmjow placed a hand on Ichigo's bare shoulder, brow creased in a scowl.

Ichigo jumped, and finally acknowledged the tall, handsome, blue-haired... _what the hell? He couldn't even concentrate when looking at Grimmjow_. Ichigo hated to admit it, but his anger with Shinji really stemmed from his own jealousy and sexual frustration. Shinji was getting...very...laid, while Ichigo hadn't had sex in over six months.

He was pretty positive Grimmjow would only be more than willing to assist him in that area, but Ichigo was hesitant to make the first move. He didn't want to seem too forward, although, Grimmjow obviously had no qualms with that, if the looks Ichigo had been subjected to were any indication.

Ichigo met Grimmjow's ocean blue gaze, and shook his head slightly, as he covered the man's hand resting on his shoulder with his own, indicating nothing was wrong. It was all he could do, since they still didn't understand one another yet, and frankly, there were no hand gestures on this planet that could describe what he'd just seen.

Grimmjow considered him for a moment, then nodded, and turned on his heel, leaving the room. Ichigo had just slipped into his loungewear, when Grimmjow's loud, deep laughter echoed through the apartment, making him involuntarily smile. The man's laughter was extremely contagious, not to mention his wide, feral grins.

Ichigo left his bedroom, only to bump into a furiously blushing Shinji. The blond only wore a towel, and had his right hand covering the right side of his face, as if to prevent Ichigo from seeing him.

"I hate Grimmjow," he muttered sullenly.

"Serves you right for teasing me. Karma sure is a bitch. Besides, no one told you to get freaky in the bathroom without lockin' the fuckin' door," Ichigo teased. Shinji didn't even reply, he just rushed into his bedroom, and slammed the door shut.

Ichigo chuckled and moved into the living room, where Stick was seated on the couch, wearing white pajama pants, and a satisfied, shit-eating grin, while Grimmjow clutched the back of the sofa, doubled over with laughter. Meanwhile, Neliel looked shell-shocked, as she sat unmoving at the kitchen table.

**Week Two**

**Saturday**

Everyone had decided to stay in the apartment that day, since Urahara had gone off somewhere, and probably wouldn't be back until later in the evening. Ichigo sighed dejectedly. He'd been awakened that morning, by a handsome, blue-haired man, hovering over him.

Ichigo had been sleeping heavily, most likely snoring and drooling, immensely enjoying his time for sleeping in, when the strange sensation of being watched, had, surprisingly, roused him from his sound slumber.

Lying on his back, his right arm behind his head, and his left resting on his stomach, he'd opened his eyes to see Grimmjow's intense blue ones gazing down at him. Ichigo opened his mouth wide...and screamed. Loudly.

Grimmjow, obviously not expecting that kind of reaction, shouted something, and fell backwards, landing on his ass. Ichigo sat up, scooting backwards, and pulling the sheet up to his neck, as if he had breasts, and they had been exposed.

Nnoitra, Urahara had informed him of Stick's name, burst in the room holding his sword, eye still narrowed and crusted with sleep, followed closely by Shinji. Upon closer inspection, Ichigo realized the two were wrapped in the same sheet, and that seemed to bring everything into focus, allowing his fear to subside. Grimmjow was staring incredulously at him, as if _he'd_ lost _his_ mind.

"Don't fuckin' do that!" Ichigo snapped, making Grimmjow scowl, and raise a thin, blue brow. "Ugghh, whatever!"

From there, Ichigo knew going back to sleep would be fucking impossible, so he trudged to the kitchen to start breakfast, Grimmjow right on his heels. _God, the man was like an overgrown puppy_.

Nnoitra and Shinji shuffled back to their shared room, slamming the door, while Neliel sat up, watching Ichigo over the back of the couch. In no time, breakfast was ready, and Grimmjow and Neliel wolfed it down like starving children. _Ridiculous_.

"Shin! Food's done!" Ichigo shouted.

"Thanks!" was the muffled reply.

The three in the kitchen moved to the living room, and Ichigo reached for the remote, flipping the tv on, as he collapsed on the love seat. All of a sudden, loud moaning, grunting and panting filled the silence, as the picture on the screen displayed two men vigorously doing the horizontal hokey pokey. Ichigo fumbled with the remote, trying to change the station, and after a few unsuccessful tries, realized it was a dvd that had been left on overnight. _Who the hell would...?_

Finally, he managed to cut the power for the dvd player, and glanced over at Neliel and Grimmjow. Poor Neliel had her hands covering her face, but her morbid curiosity had her peeking through her fingers, and Grimmjow...Ichigo shook his head. Grimmjow's eyebrows were at his hairline, and a wide grin was splitting his face. _Pervert_.

Ichigo flipped through the channels, and settled on a sappy romance for Neliel, before going back to his room to hopefully catch a nap. _Shit, he was tired as hell_. He crawled into his bed, which now smelled strongly of Grimmjow, which was a mixture of Ichigo's shampoo, and the man's own musky scent. It was heady, and Ichigo felt himself drifting off immediately.

**Present Day**

Ichigo grimaced, as he remembered waking from his nap, lying damn near on top of Grimmjow-who must've come in while he'd been asleep-with his face buried in the man's neck, right arm wrapped around the man's slim waist, and right leg draped over the man's right thigh. Grimmjow's right hand had been buried in Ichigo's hair, while his left had been resting on Ichigo's forearm. They'd been tangled up like a pair of lovers. _Talk about fucking embarrassed? Jesus._

He'd been so shocked, that he rolled right off the bed, landing on the floor with a solid "whump". _Not pleasant, he could assure you_. Grimmjow woke, then leaned over the side of the bed, his blue eyes still sleepy, as he stared down at Ichigo.

Saying something would have been pointless, so he'd just crawled in the bed, going back to sleep, this time not even minding when Grimmjow curved himself against his back, and wrapped his arm around his waist. _It had been comfortable_.

The apartment had been extremely lively, and Ichigo hadn't really had much quiet time to do anything, let alone study. He hoped his grades wouldn't suffer, because he was certainly going to take advantage of the peace, and grab some extra slee-

"Ichi! I'm home!" Shinji called, as he stepped inside the apartment, followed by their houseguests. Fuuuuck. Who the hell had it out for him up there? "Guess what!" Shinji continued, as he plopped down next to Ichigo on the couch.

"Hey, Shin," Ichigo sighed. "I don't know, tell-"

"Hi, Ichigo!" a feminine voice cried from his right. Ichigo bolted upright, his eyes wide, as he stared at Neliel.

"What the fuck? You speak Japanese now? B-but how? That was so quick!" Ichigo sputtered.

"Kisuke is a very wise man, and he used a spell that would help us learn faster."

"Quit lookin' all surprised, we ain't exactly human, ya know," Nnoitra snapped.

Ichigo paid him positively no mind, because his heart was in the process of tap dancing its way into his mouth, as he glanced timidly at Grimmjow. _Oh no, oh no, oh no, OH NO!_ Grimmjow met his panicked gaze, and smirked devilishly.

"What's wrong, Ichigo?" he rumbled, his sinful voice like a caress.

"Oh, man," Ichigo groaned in dismay.


	5. Hold My Heart

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Ichigo's face had been classic. Grimmjow hadn't expected such a strong reaction from the boy, but then again, he'd have to be dumb, deaf and blind not to see the sparks between them. He wanted the red head with a mind-numbing passion...even though he was a virgin.

 _Aha. Yeah, you heard him correctly...he was a virgin_. In Eloria, same-sex relationships were frowned upon, and in his case, certainly forbidden. His father would have castrated him rather than see him with a man, unwilling to procreate. Only his mother had been lenient in that area, and even she didn't have the power to do anything about it.

He missed his mother terribly. His father too, even though he was a stubborn, overbearing asshole. Grimmjow had no idea what he, Neliel, and Nnoitra were supposed to do, being the last of their kind. Including Kisuke and his nephew, their number was still excruciatingly small, and that added terrible pressure on his shoulders.

Considering he and Nnoitra were into guys, things certainly didn't bode well for the fairy race. He wouldn't dwell on that right now, though. Two weeks had gone by-or so Kisuke had told them-since their arrival in the place called Japan, and it only served to increase his desire for the orange-haired youth named Ichigo.

Kisuke had seen fit to cut Grimmjow's hair, years of growing it gone to waste within the space of fifteen minutes, all because the blond claimed it would help him blend in. He'd had to refrain from shoving his foot so far up the man's ass, he'd have toes for teeth. Grimmjow felt like his haircut was unnecessary, _since his hair was fucking blue_. From what he'd seen, no amount of cutting and styling would make him blend in with these people.

Then, to add insult to injury, Nnoitra, _his best fucking friend_ , had aided in the untimely demise of his precious blue hair. _Fucking piece of shit_. Oh, but he'd gotten him back, somewhat, by planting his fist in the skinny fuck's face.

Another instance that stuck in his mind, was when he'd followed after Ichigo into his bedroom, one morning, only to find the boy asleep in bed. He'd looked so adorable, snoring and drooling, as he tried to catch up on his rest. Grimmjow had noticed that Ichigo didn't get much sleep. Granted, he, Nnoitra and Neliel were the reasons for said sleep-deprivation, but he noticed it, nonetheless.

He had proceeded to crawl into the bed beside the younger man, lying still, trying not to wake him, and just enjoying his presence and warmth. After about ten minutes, the red head had turned towards him, and cuddled him like a beloved stuffed toy. Grimmjow's breath had caught in his throat, as he laid still as a stone, not moving an inch, but his like for Ichigo had clouded his brain, making him gather the boy in his arms.

 _Absolute bliss_.

Ichigo had felt positively wonderful, and Grimmjow had fallen asleep, not wanting to let him go, but that option had been taken from him, when the red head jarred him awake, having rolled out of the bed.

Grimmjow remembered looking over the side of the bed to see what was going on, and had been pleasantly surprised when all Ichigo had done was climb back beside him. He hadn't even protested when Grimmjow spooned him, wrapping his arm around his waist.

Now, more than ever, he wanted to have the orange-haired boy as his first lover. He wanted to give him his first kiss, and experience every aspect of intimacy with him. Grimmjow knew that he probably gave Ichigo the impression of being far from a virgin that had yet to have his first kiss, but it was only because he didn't want to be teased...in any language. Especially now that he was able to communicate with the red head, without the need for hand gestures.

The day Ichigo realized he, Nnoitra and Neliel could speak Japanese had been fun. The look on his face had been thoroughly amusing, and Grimmjow had used it to his advantage. The boy blushed whenever he said anything, and he meant _anything_.

Grimmjow was currently in Ichigo's bedroom, slipping into a pair of royal blue and white striped underwear called "boxers", and a white "t-shirt". He had just pulled the shirt over his head, when Ichigo trudged into the room, only to pause in the doorway.

"You goin' to bed, Grimmjow?" he asked, his voice extremely tired.

"Ichigo, you can sleep in your own bed, you know."

"Nah, it's OK. I don't wanna be rude, and you're my guest, after all."

"We've already slept in the same bed together, what's the difference if we do it again?" Grimmjow asked, completely confused. He didn't understand why Ichigo was making such a big deal out of nothing.

"That's not the point," the red head responded, going to the dresser to retrieve a pair of pajamas, a bright blush covering his face, ears and neck. Grimmjow smirked devilishly. _He could use this_.

He stepped forward until he was right behind the boy, and buried his nose into his thick, bright orange hair, while simultaneously placing his hands on his slim hips. Ichigo smelled sweet, like some type of fleshy fruit, and it made Grimmjow's mouth water.

"Are you afraid of me, Ichigo?" he rumbled, his voice muffled by the mass of the smaller man's silken strands. He felt Ichigo shudder, before he shook his head negatively.

"I'm not scared."

"Then what is it? You should know by now that I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"I know," Ichigo said softly. There was a brief silence, before the red head turned to face him, regarding him with a quizzical expression. "Why do you look at me the way you do, Grimmjow? I mean, is it why I think?" Grimmjow lifted a brow, and shrugged his shoulders, before finally answering Ichigo's question.

"I like you."

"But you don't even know me, idiot," Ichigo scoffed, as he pushed away from him, causing a deep scowl to mar Grimmjow's features.

"So fucking what? I know that you're a good guy, or else you wouldn't have bothered to fix my arm, and take me, Neliel and Nnoitra in. I want to know you, Ichigo, but all you do is run from me," Grimmjow snapped in frustration. _Why was Ichigo being so dense? So stubborn?_

"I don't fuckin' run."

Grimmjow stepped towards him, a feral grin splitting his features when Ichigo took a step backwards. He placed his hands on his hips, and cocked his head to the side.

"Nooo, you don't run at all," he stated, heavy on the sarcasm. "Fine, I won't bother you anymore."

That being said, he turned on his heel, and left the bedroom, going to the sitting room, then taking a seat on the couch beside his sister, who glanced at him with a questioning expression.

"Is something wrong, brother?" Neliel asked, reverting to thier Elorian tongue. He reclined against the plush cushions, before shaking his head.

"Nothing you need to worry about," he sighed. "What are you looking at?"

"Ah, it's called Ouran High School Host Club. It's very funny," she giggled.

"Mm."

Grimmjow lowered his lids to half-mast, immersing himself in his thoughts. He wanted Ichigo, but not if the boy was in denial, and refusing his not-so-subtle advances. It was a shame, because he really liked the red head. Sure, he didn't know much about him, but what he'd said earlier had been true. _What more was needed to be attracted to someone?_

Ichigo was beautiful, funny-at least from what he'd seen, even if he hadn't been able to understand him-and he was extremely kind. He had tended to Grimmjow when he was injured, and taken the three fairies in, when he certainly didn't have to. Ichigo seemed to be smart, because he was often found at the kitchen table reading thick books, and taking notes for hours at a time. Not to mention, he went to a place called "school" everyday, even when he was dead tired.

_So...what, then?_

Grimmjow didn't understand. He knew for a fact that Ichigo was attracted to him, judging by the smoldering stares, constant flustering and bright blushes. There was also the incident of the red head trying to protect him when Kisuke wanted to cut his hair. After the dastardly deed had been accomplished, and Grimmjow had been in the process of rearranging Nnoitra's face, Ichigo had stopped him by running his hand through his hair,completely catching him off-guard. It had sent electricity skittering down his spine, and a flaring heat spreading throughout his entire body.

Ichigo's warm brown eyes had been regarding him curiously, and he'd wanted nothing more than to kiss him. It was fucking sad that he didn't even know how. Yeah, he'd seen it done between men and women plenty of times, and he had the basic concept down, but... _he was pathetic right? Twenty-one fucking years old, and he still hadn't even had his first kiss_.

 _It really wasn't his fault, though. Women repulsed him_. The only females he had ever been able to tolerate were Neliel and his mother. _Fuck_. He remembered legions of girls trying to grope, and/or seduce him, and the experiences had been far from pleasant. Grimmjow chuckled, as he remembered a woman that had cornered him in the palace, trying to kiss him, and he'd thrown up all over her, making her scream and run off crying.

Suddenly, the front door swung open, admitting the blond named Shinji, who stomped into the apartment, his face twisted into a frown. Nnoitra followed close behind him, slamming the door shut.

"What the fuck is yer problem?" his tall friend snarled. Shinji whipped around, eyebrows to his hairline, and eyes wide, as he planted his hands on his hips.

"Are you fucking serious?" he practically bellowed. Grimmjow straightened up on the couch, eyebrows raised, and the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. _This looked promising_.

"What. The fuck. Is yer problem?" Nnoitra repeated. Shinji stomped up to him, and poked him in the chest with his index finger, repeatedly.

"Just because I fuck ya, doesn't give ya the right to beat up anyone who speaks to me!" Nnoitra's eye narrowed into a tiny, violet slit, as he leaned down to sneer at the blond.

"That fucker grabbed yer ass! That ain't fuckin' speakin' last time I checked! 'Less, this world's got some customs I ain't aware of!" he snapped.

"I-I was handling that, idiot! Then ya came out of nowhere like some fuckin' caped crusader, and beat the guy down! If that's how you're gonna act, I ain't takin' ya anywhere anymore!"

Grimmjow couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Waaahahahahaha!" he roared. All eyes turned to him in surprise, as he shook with laughter. "You gonna get married now?"

Nnoitra scowled and Shinji blushed, wrinkling his nose angrily. Neliel just sat with wide eyes, as if she was waiting for a physical altercation.

"Che! Yeah fuckin' right!" Nnoitra growled, and stormed to the room he shared with the blond, slamming the door behind him. Shinji followed, throwing the door open.

"Oi, this is my fuckin' room, asshole!" was all Grimmjow heard, before the door was slammed shut again.

Ichigo emerged from his room wearing a disgruntled expression, as he looked around in confusion. His eyes met Grimmjow's, but the blunet averted his gaze. Staring at Ichigo at this point would be fruitless.

He turned back to the TV, pretending to be engrossed in whatever was on the screen. He didn't want to be rude to the red head, but fuck, how was he supposed to react towards him now? The entire situation was stupid. Ichigo just needed to stop being an idiot, and let Grimmjow get to know him so he could...do other things to him.

"Do I even wanna know what the hell just happened?" Ichigo asked, moving into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet above the sink.

"I don't know, do you?" he returned, rather snarkily.

Ichigo turned to face him with a puzzled glance that Grimmjow nicely ignored. He didn't mean to sound upset, but Ichigo needed a taste of his own medicine. He needed to see how bad he made Grimmjow feel when he blatantly ignored his advances, knowing full well that he was equally interested.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" Ichigo snapped.

"It does-"

Before he could finish his statement, there was a knock at the apartment door. Ichigo's frown deepened, as he went to answer the summons. The door was thrown open, and standing on the other side was a guy with bright red hair, tattoos, and he was wearing a white bandana around his head.

"Yo, Strawberry, what're ya doin'?" the guy asked.

_Who the fuck was that?_

"Renji, it's kinda late, no?" Ichigo questioned, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, I figured you-with yer old man tendencies-would be ready for bed. Don't worry, I ain't stayin' long. I just came to ask if ya wanted to go out tomorrow night."

Grimmjow bristled. He just knew if he had fur it would be standing on end. He glared at the back of Ichigo's head, before turning his stare to the tattooed guy, Renji. _Was he asking Ichigo out...out?_

"You couldn't _call_ and ask me that, stupid?"

"I could've, but I lost my phone, and I'm sorry to say I don't know yer number by heart. So-" Renji's gaze landed on Grimmjow and Neliel, and his eyebrows disappeared underneath his bandana. "Uh, Ich, I didn't know ya had company."

"It's a long story," Ichigo sighed. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow, alright?"

"So, you'll go?" Renji's face brightened.

"Yeah, I'll go. Just come by and get me. What time?"

"Around eight, OK?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Ichigo answered, closing the door.

Grimmjow looked away, and glared unseeingly at the tv. _Had Ichigo just accepted a...date? Right in front of him? What the fuck was this shit?_ He chanced a glance at the red head, who was moving back towards his bedroom. Ichigo didn't even look his way, as he entered the room, and quietly shut the door.

Grimmjow snarled silently. _What the fuck?_

"Brother, are you OK?" Neliel asked softly. All he could do was nod.

"I'm gonna crash out here with you tonight, Neliel. Is that alright?"

"Y-yeah, of course."

The following silence was thick and awkward, but Grimmjow didn't care. His mind was a jumble of angry thoughts. He was pissed. He had never been this fucking livid in his life.

His stomach pitched and rolled in turmoil. _How the fuck could Ichigo do that? And right after he'd confessed to the little bastard, no less. Well, fuck him_. If he wasn't going to take Grimmjow seriously, then there was no point in even trying to pursue anything with him. The disappointment was stifling and overbearing, almost making him choke. His chest tightened uncomfortably, and his heart raced, threatening to beat right out of his ribs.

 _Fuck. Ichigo, that hurt_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo lay on the futon on the floor, scowling darkly at the digital clock on the nightstand. 3:15 am. Grimmjow wasn't coming to bed, and he had an idea why. Not only had he basically scoffed at the man's confession, but he'd accepted a date with Renji for this evening. He couldn't just say no to the red head, though. He had been promising to go out with the guy for months, and since he'd taken the time to come all the way to his home, just to ask, then Ichigo would've felt terrible for refusing.

 _Now, he felt terrible for an entirely different reason_.

Ichigo wasn't stupid. He'd felt Grimmjow's eyes on him the whole time he was speaking to Renji, and when he'd been on his way back to his room, he'd noticed the stormy look on the blue-haired man's face. His jaw had been tense, and his hands had been fisted at his sides.

 _Fuck. What a damned dilemma_.

He rolled over onto his side, facing away from the door, and squeezed his eyes shut. He had class in a few hours, and he needed some type of rest.

Nine o'clock rolled around entirely too quickly. Ichigo hadn't gone to sleep until five in the morning, and he was severely grouchy. He hadn't gotten enough rest, and it showed in his actions, as he snapped at Shinji in the kitchen. All the blond had done was leave the orange juice out.

"What. The. Fuck. Is you're problem, Ichi?" Shinji inquired, a frown pulling the corners of his lips down.

Ichigo huffed in annoyance, trying his hardest to ignore the amused stare coming from Nnoitra. Neliel and Grimmjow were nowhere to be seen, and that pissed him off even more. He had intended to apologize to the blunet before he left for class. _Guess that option was out_.

"This got somethin' to do with Grimm's pissy mood, as well?" Nnoitra asked, digging into a ham and cheese omelette. Shinji quirked a brow.

"Grimmjow _was_ pretty mad this morning. Normally, he's just annoying, following you around like a lost puppy," he commented, making Ichigo stiffen.

"Why do you think his attitude's got somethin' to do with me?"

"Che! 'Cause it's fucking obvious. First him, now you? That's too much of a coincidence, ya ask me," Nnoitra calmly answered.

Ichigo didn't respond, instead grabbing his backpack, and heading for the front door. There was really nothing he could say. Grimmjow's mood was definitely his fault, but he would try to fix that later on. First he had to deal with Renji, and let him down easily.

 _Christ. His day hadn't even gotten started all the way, and it was already looking to be a crappy one_.

He caught the bus to the lively college campus, strolling across the lush grass surrounding the huge building. _He had a few minutes to spare, before he needed to head to his first class_.

All of a sudden, a strong, wiry arm wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him close to a lean, but hard body. Ichigo glanced to his right, groaning when he recognized the head of white hair, and the wide, cheshire cat grin.

"Shirosaki, what the hell? Isn't it too early to be harassing me?" Ichigo asked.

Shiro's already wide smirk, swallowed the rest of his features, as his arm tightened.

"Nah, nah, that ain't no way ta talk ta me, King!" Strange golden irises seemed to glow within the pitch-black sclera of his eyes.

"What do you want, then?"

"Hoo! Yer in a shitty mood this mornin', ain't ya? Who's been fuckin' witcha?"

"That's none of your business, Shiro. Where's Byakuya?" Ichigo redirected the conversation.

Shiro narrowed his eyes at him, as if he knew exactly what he was doing, and didn't appreciate it in the least. He probably didn't, but Ichigo wasn't too concerned about that, at the moment.

"Hunh, he's got a class ta teach. Told me not ta 'hang around'. Never said I couldn't mess wit my King, though."

Ichigo could never understand why the white-haired young man called him King, and whenever he asked, he was given some lame reason. Something about Ichigo being the king of all things smart. He knew that wasn't the real reason, but he never had the energy required to find out the real answer. Instead, he would just bring up the albino's on-again, off-again boyfriend, who also happened to be one of Ichigo's professors.

Shiro would always get defensive when Byakuya Kuchiki was mentioned, but it was obvious there were feelings involved. Ichigo just thought it was a good way to change the subject.

"What are you doin' here anyway? You don't have classes today," Ichigo queried, a curious expression crossing his face.

"Yeah, I just gotta pick up mah portfolio. Kyoraku-sensei has it."

Ichigo glanced down at his watch, and cursed. The few minutes to spare had disappeared, thanks to Shiro. _Fuck, he hated being late for class_.

"I gotta run, Shiro!" he called, taking off at a jog.

"Aight, King!"

XOXOXO

Gin was in trouble. He had been followed on one of his trips to a nearby village. He'd needed more supplies, and could no longer put off the dangerous venture, even with Tousen tracking his movements. He already had his belongings packed, and had evacuated his laboratory. _Shit_. It was time for him to go see his Uncle Kisuke.

 _The mountains were no longer safe_.


	6. Karma

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

After his disappointment with Ichigo, Grimmjow had gone to Urahara and asked the blond scientist to disguise his ears, making it possible for him to go exploring. Being cooped up under the orange-haired boy all the time couldn't be good for his health, so a trip outside would work wonders.

Kisuke had grudgingly agreed and applied the same spell he used for his own ears to Grimmjow's. He had also given him clothes that would help him "blend in" with the population. _The clothes were strange, though_. Kisuke had described what he was wearing as a form-fitting, pale yellow t-shirt, with a drawing of a crown on the front of it, light-blue jeans and a pair of black "sneakers"... _whatever those were_. He supposed he did look like the humans walking the streets, but he would've felt more comfortable wearing his own kind of clothing.

When he'd left that morning to go on his expedition, he'd had a mind to ask Nnoitra if he wanted to accompany him, but then realized that his best friend had still been in the apartment with Ichigo's blond friend, Shinji. _There was no way he would have gone back up there to face the strawberry named youth_.

 _No way_.

So, instead, he'd just left and headed towards an area that Kisuke called "downtown". It was early morning, but the air was warm, yet heavy. There was a scent lingering in the air that was unfamiliar and made his nose wrinkle. Not only that, but he'd almost been hit by a big, metal contraption on wheels, moving so fast, he'd had to use his fairy speed to dodge it. He would have to ask Kisuke what the fuck those things were; there were plenty of them flooding the roads, which were hard as hell and black as pitch, by the way.

 _He didn't understand any of it_.

He'd walked for hours, studying the humans and their habits. They ate strange things, wore strange clothing and talked into devices that they held up to their ears. After seeing several humans doing that, he'd stopped in front of a place where the things they spoke into were being displayed and apparently sold. The things were called cellular phones.

 _Whatever that meant_.

Everything in this world was so odd and threw him off completely. Now, more than ever, he missed his homeland. He especially missed his parents, but they were dead and there was no way they were coming back. If that silver-haired fairy hadn't have helped him, Neliel and Nnoitra, they would more than likely be dead right along with his parents. Grimmjow vowed to find the traitor who had done such a heinous thing. _How? He had no idea, but he would find a way_.

 _He had to, or his credence as the Fairy Prince...now the King, would be null and void_.

Continuing his trek, he noticed how many humans were staring at him. He knew he was taller than the average human here, but didn't think it warranted the looks he was receiving from them. _They weren't glares, though. More like appreciative stares_. They would've stroked his ego had he not been uninterested in women. There were males that stared at him as well, but truth be told, he only had one human male on his mind, no matter how hard he tried to forget about him.

 _Ichigo_.

Finally, he'd made his way to a place called a "diner", where he'd stopped to get some food. The place was a modest size with a long counter stretching the length of it, where stools were situated along it. The floor was a shiny, black hard material that Grimmjow assumed was marble and the walls were a comforting cream color. The seats were a deep, blood-red and the tables and counter matched the floor. _All in all, a nice place_.

He took a seat at a booth that a short, dark-haired young man led him to. The young man placed something called a "menu" before him and had proceeded to ask him what he wanted to drink. He, being inexperienced in the ways of dining out in the human world, as well as being thirsty as hell after all of that walking, had asked the young man to choose for him. The man had suggested he order a "soft drink". Kisuke had given him some human currency, so he'd followed the man's suggestion. The "soft drink" certainly wasn't soft, though. It burned his nose and made his eyes water.

 _He definitely didn't see how this could sate anyone's thirst_.

He glanced over the "menu" skeptically, unfamiliar with half of the food until something called a cheeseburger caught his attention. He remembered Ichigo bringing one of those home after he'd finished with school, along with another food item called "french fries". He licked his lips, trying to ignore the angry growling in his belly. That's what he would get. A cheeseburger and french fries.

 _Perfect_.

A minute later, the dark-haired man returned, "Sir, have you decided what you'd like to order?" he asked.

Grimmjow nodded and pointed to the picture of the cheeseburger and french fries in the menu booklet, "Yeah, that."

The young man nodded and retrieved the menu after writing in a tiny book, "OK, my name is Hanataro and I'll be your waiter this afternoon."

With that, he walked off and left Grimmjow to his musings as he turned to watch people from the large window beside him. They seemed to bustle by without a care in the world.

 _They were so lucky_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo rested his head in his hand and his elbow on his desk as he stared blankly at his professor. His lack of sleep had finally caught up to him and he was absolutely miserable trying to keep awake. Nevermind the fact that his overly strict English professor, Byakuya Kuchiki was staring directly at him as if the man KNEW he was on the verge of sliding into a coma.

The classroom was overly warm, which only added to his drowsiness; it was like the building itself had a vendetta against him. Kuchiki-sensei was giving a lecture on the upcoming report they would be assigned and the man's monotone was doing absolutely NOTHING to keep Ichigo from throwing his head back and outright snoring.

Suddenly, everything became hazy and comfortable and before he could realize he had fallen asleep, his forehead smacked his desk with a loud "thunk", making the other students glance at him and laugh quietly. Kuchiki-sensei glared at him with his piercing, hooded, violet eyes.

 _Shit_.

Ichigo jerked upright and shifted in his seat, only to move around and keep himself up, although it wasn't working at all. He was so far beyond sleepy, it wasn't even funny. He glanced up at the clock above the classroom entrance and grimaced.

_He still had thirty minutes left._

_This wouldn't do_.

Before he knew it, he had lost some more time, his eyes drifting shut unwillingly.

A loud rapping on his desk jolted him awake, making him bang his knees on the underside of the desk. _Fuck, that hurt_. He rubbed his throbbing knees and looked around, realizing with dread that the classroom was completely empty, save for his stoic professor, who was standing beside his desk wearing a cold glare.

_Damn. Cold busted._

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck and refused to meet the older man's eyes. Kuchiki-sensei was the only man that could make him feel like an adolescent with one look. It didn't help things that the man was extremely attractive. He had long, raven-colored hair and a nicely built body that he hid beneath his business casual wear. For instance, he was wearing a white, short-sleeved, button-up shirt with a black tie, black slacks, black, leather dress shoes and his black, rectangular-framed glasses. The man smelled elegantly beautiful and Ichigo could see why Shiro was attracted to him.

As Ichigo sat guiltily sulking, Kuchiki-sensei stood waiting for a response. Finally, seeming to have grown impatient with his silence, his professor folded his arms across his broad chest and shifted his weight to his right foot, "Kurosaki-san, this is unacceptable. Is there a reason you were sleeping in my classroom?" the man's deep baritone scattered the silence.

Ichigo sighed dejectedly and shook his head, "No, Kuchiki-sensei. I just haven't been getting much rest. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," he hurriedly amended.

His professor stared him down for a few moments more before he slapped a sheet of paper down on the desk, "That is the assignment. Do not let this lack of sleep keep you from completing your work, or I will be forced to fail you."

With that, the man gracefully moved away and Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief. _That had gone ten times better than he'd expected_. He gathered the paper and his backpack and slowly left the classroom, rubbing his eyes wearily. _As soon as he stepped foot inside his apartment, he was falling out for the next few days and kami help whoever disturbed him_.

Ichigo trudged through the double doors marking the exit of the university and cringed at the obnoxiously bright sun. Normally, he would be happy that the weather was so nice, but his fatigue had him cursing everything, especially the albino he'd sworn he'd gotten rid of earlier, but was now walking towards him, face-splitting grin being proudly displayed. Ichigo inwardly groaned and lowered his head, hoping against hope that Shiro would just walk on by... _but it was not meant to be._

"Oi, King, ya done fer the day?" he asked, slinging a wiry arm around Ichigo's shoulders.

Ichigo nodded and shifted his backpack to his right side, away from the man on his left, "Yeah, why? Why are you still here anyway? Didn't you say you just needed to pick up a portfolio or something? Why are you harassing me?" he practically whined, fuming at the injustice of it all.

 _He just wanted to go home_.

Shiro cackled and tightened the arm snaked around Ichigo's shoulders, "I love when ya act all bratty an' shit. It's fuckin' cute!"

"Yeah, well, I hate you. Now, why don't you go away? I'm pretty sure Byakuya is ready to leave for the afternoon and you can bother him as much as you like."

"Hn, yer lucky I like ya, King. I ain't this nice ta everyone else," the albino stated rather seriously, making Ichigo regard him warily.

He'd heard rumors about Shirosaki using a goofball facade to hide the fact that he was tough as an alley cat. Ichigo didn't necessarily want to provoke the man, but he was tired as fuck and really didn't feel like being pestered.

"Alright, alright. What do you want?" he asked carefully, shooting Shiro a sideways glance.

"Well, ya see, I need some help on that crappy History assignment Yoruichi-sensei tacked on us last week. Yer pretty good at smart shit, so I thought ya'd give me a hand."

Ichigo face-palmed. _The assignment Shiro was talking about was due in two fucking days. Which meant the asshole had waited until almost the very last minute to ask for some fucking help_. He wanted to kill him.

"Shiro..." Ichigo's voice trailed off helplessly. _He honestly didn't know what to say and getting all bent out of shape about it now would accomplish absolutely nothing_. He sighed wearily, "Fine. You can drop by tomorrow evening. I got something to do tonight."

"Cool! Thanks, King! I 'preciate it!" Shiro exclaimed and sauntered off in the opposite direction, while Ichigo continued on towards the bus stop.

The albino had better be glad Ichigo didn't own a gun because he was seriously contemplating murder.

XOXOXO

Toshiro Hitsugaya couldn't believe his eyes. He knew he sometimes had random streaks of good luck, but this... _this was just outrageously wonderful_.

He was thankful that he was on the opposite side of the diner of the blue-haired man that had just taken a seat. It gave him a chance to observe without seeming like a creep. He was almost positive that the blue-haired man was one of those mythical creatures his uncle had always been going on about. The man had horded ancient books in his musty basement and once – while Toshiro had been down there cleaning – he'd stumbled across an interesting bit of reading. Once he'd gotten started, it had taken threats of starvation for him to leave the funky room.

His uncle, Yamamoto-san, had been a firm believer in all things supernatural. At first, Toshiro had thought the man was an absolute loon, but once he'd found all those books and began reading, he'd changed his tune. He'd read about worlds that he only thought existed in fairy tales and bedtime stories. _To think they truly existed..._

Yamamoto-san had noticed Toshiro's sudden interest in such things and welcomed him with open arms, explaining to him the different creatures that existed that others thought didn't and showing him proof of their existence. _Elves, trolls, goblins, fairies..._

 _Which led him back to the blue-haired man he was currently watching_.

Toshiro was now certain that the man he was observing was the Elorian fairy prince from his uncle's old book on the fairy race. There were many different clans of fae, most of which had their own hierarchy. The ones he knew of offhand were the Elorians, the Roandes, and the clan of Eieren, whose king and queen were forced to leave due to corruption in the hierarchy. That clan had fizzled, but there were rumors that most of the clan of Eieren had made its way to this world, or rather this dimension.

He remembered memorizing the royal families and wondering if he would ever be able to spot one if the rumors were true, but this was unusual, even for something of a supernatural origin. _The Elorians were said to be the strongest and most powerful fairy clan, so what was the prince doing here? And if the prince was here, did that mean the rest of his people were?_

Toshiro nearly shivered with excitement at the prospect of solving that little mystery. His uncle would be so happy, except the man had passed on a few months before. Yamamoto-san would've loved to have been a part of something this huge.

"Sir, would you like a refill on your drink?" a cheery, orange-haired girl asked him, startling him out of his musings. He noticed the blue-haired fairy prince – Grimmjow, if he recalled correctly from the book – rising and placing a few bills on his table.

"No, I'm done here," Toshiro quickly stated, pulling a few bills of his own from his wallet. "Don't worry about the bill. This should cover it."

The waitress's gray eyes grew large with surprise as she nodded and stepped out of his way, "Sure, Sir. Have a nice day!" she called after him as he hurriedly followed after the fairy prince.

Toshiro straightened his black polo shirt and khaki pants as he tried to be discreet in trailing Grimmjow. He didn't want to scare the prince off and miss out on the chance of a lifetime. He followed several meters behind the tall blunet, wondering why he was in this dimension, seemingly alone and dressed as a human. Although Grimmjow's ears appeared normal, Toshiro's uncle had told him about sorcerers and other fairies that could use spells to disguise such things.

 _It had to be him_. Toshiro had never seen another person with blue hair before, not to mention those bright blue eyes. _Oh well. He would find out before the day was done, that was for sure_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo stared across the table at his companion, bored out of his mind and damn near falling asleep. Renji had picked him up from his apartment, as promised, and they had decided to go to a small little restaurant not far from Ichigo's place. He didn't want to go far because he'd meant what he'd said about going home and passing out for at least two days.

After a short ride on Renji's red and black Yamaha YZF-R1, they'd arrived at the restaurant, Ichigo nearly kissing the ground in relief. _He didn't mind motorcycles, but the owner had to at least know what the fuck he was doing. He didn't want to feel as if his life were at risk by merely sitting on the fucking thing_. Renji cut corners and drove that bike like he was insane and Ichigo was really contemplating telling the red head he was walking back to his apartment once their farce of a date was over.

Renji managed to almost put Ichigo to sleep faster than his professors, which was really saying something. All the tall, tattooed red head talked about...was himself. _Now, don't get him wrong, Renji was really handsome...in a rough kind of way_. He was tall, around 6'2", ripped as hell from his days of playing American football, had these intricate-looking, tribal tattoos that started at his eyebrows and traveled down the sides of his neck, disappearing underneath the collar of his gray t-shirt, and he had long, bright red hair that he was currently sporting in his usual ponytail. A navy-blue bandana was wrapped around his head, matching his dark-blue jeans and a pair of dark-blue and gray Nike Air Jordan 8 sneakers.

In short, Renji wasn't lacking in the looks department. More like he was lacking in the "good date" department. There was only so much Ichigo could stomach when it came to American football and motorcycles and he was more than ready to call it quits.

"So, I told the guy that I wasn't named MVP for nothin'..."

Ichigo tuned the red head out and glanced out of the window he was seated next to, idly wondering why his food was taking so long to be prepared. He'd only ordered a cheeseburger and some onion rings. He was already sipping a thick, sinful banana milkshake and he was ready to eat and get home.

After five more minutes of listening to Renji drone on and on about shit Ichigo didn't give a fuck about, their food finally arrived and without any preamble, he hungrily dug in. It was pretty sad that Renji didn't even notice that he hadn't said more than two words (what's up) since he'd been picked up at his apartment.

While he ate, his thoughts drifted to the blue-haired fairy currently living with him and Shinji. He wondered where the man had been all day, since when he arrived at the apartment after his classes, Grimmjow had been nowhere to be seen. _He'd been gone all day_. Ichigo felt horrible for hurting the man's feelings, especially only to go on an epic FAIL of a date with Renji.

Ichigo wanted to apologize to the blunet whenever he saw him and maybe make it up to him. He was really attracted to Grimmjow, but he didn't know what the gorgeous being saw in him. He was nothing special and his hair, in his opinion, ruined everything. It wasn't sexy like the other man's silky, sky blue locks and his body certainly was nothing to jump for joy over. Yeah, sure he wasn't grossly obese or anything, but he wasn't all firm, solid muscle like Grimmjow.

He squirmed in his seat, mind taking a turn for the extremely naughty. _This wasn't the time to get a woody and especially not for another man_. Ichigo chuckled derisively. _It wasn't like Renji would notice anyway; the guy was too busy stroking his own ego._

"...Ichigo?"

His eyes widened as he realized that Renji was finally addressing him. He glanced up from his plate, mouth full of cheeseburger and raised his brows in question. The red head grinned and arched a brow.

"Weren't ya list'nin'?"

Ichigo blushed, embarrassed that he'd been caught ignoring his date, "Ah, sorry, I was a little preoccupied," he mumbled.

Renji gave a short bark of laughter and stole an onion ring from Ichigo's plate, making him scowl with disapproval, "Yeah, ya do look a lil' hungry."

 _Ha. The idiot thought he was too hungry to pay attention? More like just disinterested in his not riveting at all tales_.

Another painful half an hour passed and finally, Ichigo could take no more. He dropped a few bills on the table for his food, to which Renji didn't complain at all, and stood, holding his hand in the air, halting the red head from following, "Look, Renji, you're a nice guy and all, but this isn't working out. I think it's best we just stay friends," he stated calmly.

Renji actually had the nerve to look baffled before quirking his mouth and shrugging dejectedly, "Oh. Ok."

Ichigo didn't wait around to hear anymore, instead stalking from the restaurant and not bothering to look back. _That had officially been the worst date he'd ever been on in his life_. Thankfully, the restaurant wasn't far from his apartment, so he briskly began walking up the street, hoping to beat Shinji home. With Shinji and Nnoitra there, the house would inevitably be noisy as shit and he wanted a head start on getting a restful sleep. He also hoped Grimmjow was there so he could apologize. He wanted to start over with the blunet, getting to know him better and maybe become more than just his friend.

Night had descended, making the street lights come on and silence fill the deserted roads. Deciding to shorten his trip, Ichigo ducked into an alley that cut across two streets and would bring him to his apartment faster than taking the main roads. The alley was dark, dirty and smelled like piss, but Ichigo didn't care at the moment. _He just wanted to get home_.

He was striding past a large, green dumpster when four men stepped out of the shadows and surrounded him. _Fuck. He just couldn't catch a break_. One of the four, a tall, dark-haired man with a somber expression, took a step forward and held out a thin hand, "Give us your money and you may live to see another day."

Ichigo scoffed. _Yeah, he was surrounded, but he wasn't going down without a fucking fight. They wanted his money, they were gonna have to TAKE that shit_. He balled his hands into tight fists and raised them, moving comfortably into a fighting stance, "Fuck you," he spat callously.

The men twittered excitedly and started closing in on him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He was nervous, but he refused to not fight. He had his eye on the one that had spoken and told him to give his money up, but realized his mistake when he was hit on the head hard from behind.

"Shit!" he hissed, fighting through the jarring pain that briefly made him see stars.

He could feel blood trickling from where he'd been hit, but he threw a huge right hook, hitting the man that had been to his left and making the fucker stagger backwards against the alley wall. As soon as he recovered from that swing, he was hit hard in the stomach, making him gag and double over. His eyes were watering and he really couldn't breathe, but he still refused to go down. He tried to straighten up, only to get his legs swept from under him, causing him to crash to the ground, landing on his back. A flurry of feet and fists came at him then and all he could do was hold his hands up, guarding his face.

 _Shit. All he'd wanted to do was go home and sleep_.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow had had an interesting time exploring the town of Karakura, but he was tired and ready to lie down. His head ached from all of the extra noises of the bustling humans and their machinery and his feet were actually sore from walking so much. A nice long, hot "shower" would be marvelous at the moment and he was indeed looking forward to just that as he made his way back towards the apartment.

He had a good memory, so getting lost hadn't been an issue. A few times during his trip, he'd sworn he'd felt someone following him, but whenever he turned to look, he didn't see anyone. It must have been his over-active imagination. There was nothing for him to fear here, aside from the fast machines on wheels that he'd learned were called automobiles, or cars for short. _He had nothing to worry about_.

Grimmjow turned down the last stretch of sidewalk before he would reach the apartment, but paused when scuffling and grunting reached his sensitive ears. He started to keep moving, but a familiar smell stopped him cold.

_Ichigo._

_There was no mistaking the fruity smell of his hair and the soothing smell his clothing emitted_.

What scared the hell out of him was the unmistakable smell of blood. He had never smelled Ichigo's blood before, but he knew something wasn't right. The smell was thick and mingled with the scent of perspiration. _It made his skin crawl_.

Grimmjow took off in the direction of the scents and sounds, hoping that he would get there and Ichigo would be ok. He rounded a corner and ended up in a dark kind of corridor, except it was outside. In the middle of the outside corridor was a group of men brutally kicking and punching a huddled form on the ground. Recognizing the form as Ichigo, he snarled and sped over to the men.

Using his fairy strength, he grabbed the first man he could get his hands on by the collar and tossed him away. The man collided with one of the stone walls surrounding them and slid to the ground, immediately unconscious. The next man he grabbed by the face and shoved him headfirst into a large, metal, green bin. By this time, the other two men had noticed his presence and were in the process of backing away, hands raised in the air in a gesture of peace.

Grimmjow growled, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides, "Get out of here before I change my mind about killing you!"

The men scuttled away and Grimmjow turned to face Ichigo, who was just now stirring and moving into a sitting position. He touched the back of his head and winced, fingers coming back covered in blood. He spit to the side, saliva tainted with blood as well and face already bruising.

Then, he noticed Grimmjow.

Those nut-brown eyes widened and his lips parted slightly, "Gr-Grimmjow? What are you doing here?"

Grimmjow snorted and ran a hand through his disheveled blue hair, "Saving your ass, apparently," he stated waspishly.

Ichigo frowned but otherwise said nothing. They continued to stare at one another, until Grimmjow became aggravated, sucking his teeth in frustration as he moved towards the injured youth. He knelt before him, assessing the damage before asking, "Can you walk?"

"I think so."

Ichigo slowly stumbled to his feet, flat-out refusing the help Grimmjow was offering. He wobbled a bit, but managed to stay standing. Seeing that the orange head was ok to walk on his own, Grimmjow fell into step beside him.

The silence was awkward and he didn't know what to say. _He knew Ichigo had gone on his date with the guy with the red hair that night, but why had he been walking home alone? Shouldn't his date have been bringing him back to the apartment?_ Not only that, but Grimmjow didn't want to comment and risk sounding like a jealous idiot. _Shit_.

He sighed, frustrated. _What the fuck should he do?_

"Where did you go today?" Ichigo asked, breaking the silence and startling him.

He frowned, unwillingly to share his activities, while Ichigo was free to keep his own private. "Out," he issued with finality.

A soft sigh floated from Ichigo and suddenly, his elbow was gripped firmly, halting his steps. Grimmjow peered down into those enchanting brown eyes and arched a brow in question. _What was he up to?_

"Look, Grimmjow, I'm sorry for yesterday. You know, the whole brushing off your, uh..." Ichigo trailed off uncertainly, so he decided to help him out.

"Confession."

The orange head blushed under his bruises and nodded, biting his bottom lip, "I also wanted you to know that I only accepted that date with Renji because he'd been asking me a lot and I had already promised to go out with him before you even came along," he continued.

"So, why aren't you with this 'Renji' now? Shouldn't he be escorting you home?" Grimmjow asked, relieved that he was able to ask what had been plaguing him since seeing Ichigo alone in that place.

"Well, let's just say Renji isn't my type," Ichigo answered with a grimace. Grimmjow outright laughed, making the smaller man shoot him a nasty glare that only managed to last a few seconds before he too was laughing.

 _Well, that was good news, but did that mean that Ichigo wanted HIM?_ He peeked over at the battered young man and pursed his lips. He just didn't know what Ichigo wanted. He knew there was a mutual attraction, but as far as anything else went, Grimmjow was clueless.

"So..." Ichigo started, expression nervous, "you still mad at me?"

Grimmjow forced himself not to grin at the kid's cuteness as he pretended to mull the question over. He was just about to answer when Ichigo slid to the ground in a boneless heap, having passed out from his injuries.

 _Guess that conversation would have to wait_.


	7. Teach Me How to Kiss

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Toshiro couldn't believe his eyes. _He now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the blue-haired man he'd been watching and following was indeed the fairy prince of Eloria_.

After trailing the taller man from the diner, they'd ended up on the east side of Karakura near a few medium-rise apartment complexes. He had been lost in thought, wondering how he was going to go about proving exactly who the blunet was, when said blunet had whirled on his heel and ran back towards him. _If he hadn't have ducked into the doorway of a closed store, he was sure he would've been run clear over_. The blue-haired man had been in such a hurry that he paid no mind to Toshiro, which, in his opinion, was better than the alternative of being discovered.

He had given the man a slight head start (not that it was needed with how fast the guy had been running) before he had followed behind him. What he'd seen upon catching up to the blunet had not only blown his mind, but had also proven his suspicions to be true. Toshiro had witnessed the fairy prince, Grimmjow, rescuing an orange-haired man by literally throwing the man's attackers off of him.

 _With one hand_.

He hadn't needed to see anymore, but he had gone on to follow Grimmjow and the orange-haired boy until the latter had passed out from his injuries and had to be carried to a well-kept apartment building. Toshiro had taken note of the location and left before his good luck could run out.

 _He had a lot of research and preparing to do_.

XOXOXO

A loud knocking roused him from his fitful slumber, making him roll onto his side and glare at the large door to his bed chambers. He had a mind to ignore it, but decided against that since he had ordered his second-in-command to wake him with any news of importance.

"Enter!" he barked, grimacing through the dreadful pain shooting up and down his arms.

The large, wooden door swung open, revealing Tousen, who slowly stepped inside and quietly shut the door, "Aizen, sir, I have news," he stated solemnly.

Aizen couldn't tell whether his tone was a good thing or not, so he nodded his head in an impatient manner, "Go on."

Tousen was as stoic as they came, but Aizen noticed the small shift in stance that belied the man's excitement. He narrowed his eyes and waited for what his second-in-command had to say. "I have found another sorcerer who knows the secret of La Garganta. He claims to be able to ready a portal within the week."

Aizen wanted to smile, but the feeling in his arms kept him from doing so, "And what of my arms? What of this nuisance of a spell? Can it be undone?" he snapped irritably.

Tousen nodded and stepped back to open the bedroom door again, "Yes, he wishes to see the spell up close in order to counter it."

Aizen was skeptical, but he was also quite desperate. Besides, he was sure that Tousen would prevent this sorcerer from causing him further harm if allowed near him, so he nodded and permitted his second to allow the other person entrance. A tall, slender, pink-haired man wearing silver, rectangular-framed glasses stepped into the room and clasped his hands in front of him, waiting patiently to be introduced. Tousen shut the door and walked around the pink-haired man.

"This is Szayel Aporro Grantz," Tousen said with a small gesture in the other man's direction.

"Nice to meet you, Aizen, sir. How may I be of service?" this Szayel person asked coyly, honey-colored eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Do not make me kill you after having only just met you," he bit out, certain that Szayel could see that he was in excruciating pain.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll take a look at your arms," Szayel stated and floated forward.

He held out his arms, the movement causing him great suffering, but he managed to hold still while they were inspected. The pink-haired sorcerer hummed and ahh'ed in satisfaction before finally pulling a small, green pouch from the left sleeve of his long, deep violet robes. He stuck a slim hand inside and withdrew a handful of a silver, glittery powdery substance, sprinkling it meticulously over his arms. Almost immediately his arms began tingling, the sensation reaching a fever pitch before there was suddenly nothing. Aizen's eyes widened as he lifted his hands to his face and closed them into fists, then reopened them.

_There was no more pain._

_Perfect_.

"As soon as you complete La Garganta, come to me," he stated brusquely and climbed off of his bed. He strode to the opposite side of his room to the bathing chambers and opened the door, throwing one last statement over his shoulder before disappearing inside, "I hope you are not adverse to destroying fairies."

Szayel dipped into a low bow and grinned, "Absolutely not, Aizen, sir."

XOXOXO

Gin emerged from the thick patch of trees near his mountain lab and home, glancing around warily as he started down the path - hidden by a spell - from any passersby. A soft rustling from a hedge to his left halted him, making his breath hitch. A small rabbit shot across the path and into another hedge on his right. Gin sighed and took a deep breath.

 _Tousen was getting too close and it was making him paranoid_.

After what he'd learned recently, he had every right to be paranoid. _If Tousen got his hands on him before he could make it to his uncle, Aizen would have a field day trying to make him talk and just plain torturing him for the spell he'd used on the man's arms_.

Gin had gone into town for more supplies, when an elderly man had recognized him as the son of Touran and led him off to what had appeared to be an abandoned old shack. Armed with a dangerous, crippling spell, he'd followed the man and what he'd seen had taken his breath away. The shack had been enchanted to look run-down on the outside, but inside, it had been a huge castle. He and the elderly man had come in through a huge front entrance that led deeper into an even larger dining hall. There were two picnic-styled tables that ran the length of the hall and they were filled with people.

Gin had to do a double-take upon glancing at a passing "person". The "person" had turned out to be a fairy, pointed ears peeking through a mess of dark, curly hair. Upon closer inspection, the entire population had been fairies. Where they had come from, he hadn't known, until the elderly man gripped his elbow and led him out of the dining hall and into a magnificent library.

The library's walls had been covered with book after book and reached up over thirty feet to the ceiling that held a mural of a beautiful fairy man and woman. The elderly man had noticed Gin studying the mural and after seating his aged body behind a big, wooden desk, strewn with scrolls, various rolls of parchment and books, he'd begun talking.

" _Do you know who they are?"_

_Gin turned his gaze to the man and shook his head, "No. Are they famous?"_

_The man's brow furrowed slightly, "Have you heard the tale of the three fairy clans?" he asked, reaching into a drawer of the desk and withdrawing a pipe._

_Gin watched as the man filled the pipe with a strong-smelling tobacco, then lit it, inhaling deeply. Gin was apprehensive and uncertain, but he was also curious. He wanted to know where those fairies had come from considering Aizen had managed to wipe out almost the entire clan of Eloria._

_But first things first._

" _What's your name, old man?" he inquired._

_The elderly man grinned, making his pale green eyes light up. His gray hair gleamed as brightly as his teeth, his entire body shimmering like a mirage and suddenly, Gin was staring at another fairy. The man was no longer elderly, but he wasn't overly youthful either. He looked like the middle-aged, yet extremely attractive fairy he was. Pale green eyes had morphed into a smoky brown and gray eyebrows were now dark. His tattered, black robes were now a pristine white and blended well with his long, flowing white hair._

" _I am Jyuushiro Ukitake. I belong to the clan of Roande," he stated._

_Gin stared in awe, his mind trying to wrap itself around the idea of a Roande fairy still in existence. It was a hard thing to do, let him assure you. "How is that even possible? The Roande clan was destroyed years ago during The Great Betrayal!" he blurted._

_Jyuushiro nodded and took a quick draw from his pipe before exhaling and speaking, "That is true, but what most do not know is that there were survivors and not only from the time of The Great Betrayal. There are survivors from the fall of the Eieren clan as well."_

_Gin shamelessly gaped at the older fairy. If what Jyuushiro said was true, then that meant two clans of fae were still alive and apparently thriving, from what he'd seen in that dining hall. But...how had it happened?_

" _How were there survivors?" he asked, arching a brow and folding his arms across his chest._

_Jyuushiro pursed his lips and glanced up at the mural on the ceiling of the library, "No one knows this fact aside from myself and the former servant to the king and queen of Eieren, but he's dead now. You knew him quite well, though." Gin's eyebrows flew skyward, but he chose not to respond. "He was one of the most powerful sorcerers in this world and also...your father. Touran Ichimaru."_

_Gin felt faint, but a defiant outburst leaped from his mouth before he even had a chance to think about it, "You lie! My father was Elorian! So was my mother! I am Elorian!" he snarled._

_Jyuushiro merely shook his head and puffed on his pipe. Gin fisted his hands at his sides and glared at the white-haired fairy that was staring back at him nonchalantly as if he hadn't just dashed everything Gin knew about himself and his background to pieces. He wouldn't believe this nonsense._

" _You were born in Eloria, so yes, you are Elorian by birth, but by blood you are Eierenian. When Eieren fell to corruption, your parents fled to Eloria, as did many others. What no one but myself and Touran knew was that some of the survivors of Eieren fled to the other dimension altogether, including the Eierenian king and queen. They were betrayed and attacked by our own kind, then forced to leave, but due to the queen's state during the upheaval, Touran helped them escape to the other dimension," Jyuushiro continued._

_Gin scowled. It was too much. He was having a hard time keeping up, but two things did stand out to him. "What was wrong with the queen? Was she sick? And why didn't my parents go to the other dimension as well?"_

" _Touran stayed behind to help bring to light what had truly occurred during the fall of Eieren and the queen wasn't sick; she was pregnant."_

_A heavy silence filled the room after that loaded statement. There were so many questions Gin wanted to ask, but he had no idea where to start. No, wait...yes, he did. "Then it's possible that the Eieren clan still has its royal family?"_

_Jyuushiro nodded solemnly, but offered no further response. Gin stood as still as stone, unsure what to do, until something else occurred to him, "My uncle," he breathed, ice-blue eyes open in shock._

_Again Jyuushiro nodded, but this time accompanied it with a small smile, "I think you get the gist of things now."_

_Oh, he got the gist of things alright and now it was imperative that he make it to the other dimension and speak with his uncle Kisuke._

Gin found a quiet, secluded spot behind the mountains and after glancing around skittishly, he opened La Garganta and stepped through, hefting a large bag filled with his important scrolls, spells and other personal belongings. He traveled slowly through the dark void, mind in a frenzy. He still had many questions, but Jyuushiro had assured him that the answers he was seeking could only be given by his uncle. Gin had asked Jyuushiro why he had revealed the hidden fairies to him and the man had stated that it was his duty to do so. His father, Touran, had asked Jyuushiro to tell Gin the truth once he had reached a certain age and because of recent events, the knowledge of other living fairies was crucial.

 _Yes, there were many questions that needed to be answered_.

Gin stepped out of La Garganta and into a strange room. Three pairs of widened eyes immediately landed on him. A blond boy opened and closed his mouth in astonishment before suddenly shouting and jumping to his feet from the odd-looking seat he had been perched on. Gin recognized the two others as the Elorian princess and the Elorian prince's companion. _Where was the prince?_

The princess rose to her feet as well, eyes wide with recognition, "You're the one that helped us escape!" she pointed out.

Gin nodded, but before anything else could be said, he pulled his bag from his shoulder and dug through it for his latest invention, meant to be used specifically for this situation. Kisuke had informed him of the language barrier in this dimension, so he'd come prepared. Finally, his slim fingers wrapped around the tiny jar and he pulled it free from the bag, uncorking the top as he returned to his full height. The jar held a shiny, golden, pasty substance that he'd enchanted to be used as what he called a "permanent translator". He dipped his right pinky finger into the stuff and after capturing some on the tip, swirled his finger inside and around his right ear, then repeated the actions with his left ear. Once the process was complete, he stoppered the jar and returned it to his bag.

Turning to face the princess, he bowed, "Your Highness, could you speak in this world's native tongue, please?" he asked in their language.

He noticed the blond staring at him with narrowed, dark eyes and grinned to ease the tension. The princess briefly turned her wheat-gray gaze to the blond, then back to Gin and spoke, "Why?" she asked and Gin allowed his grin to spread.

"I needed to hear the language in order for it to be replicated," he spoke fluently in the language that the princess had used.

The blond plopped down onto that odd-looking seat and huffed out a breath, "Yer another fairy, ain't ya?" he asked, not even bothering to look in his direction anymore.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

The blond shook his head and reached into a pocket of the strange pants he wore and retrieved a small, rectangular object. There was a series of beeps before the object was lifted to the boy's ear and held there momentarily. Amazingly, the blond spoke into the object, making Gin arch a brow in shock. "Can ya get up here, now? There's another one," he spoke and Gin tried not to feel insulted at the blond's tone. "Just get up here!"

The blond lowered the device, pressed something and returned it to his pocket before facing Gin again, "Urahara will be here soon."

Gin immediately perked up. _He hadn't even needed to ask where his uncle was_. "Good. My uncle and I have much to discuss."

The blond's eyes widened and his wide mouth fell open, "Uncle?"

Gin frowned, but nodded, "Yes, my uncle."

"You're Gin?"

His frown turned into a deep scowl. _How did this human know him?_ "How do you know my name?"

"I'm Shinji. Urahara told me that he told you about me be-"

"Ah! Yes, I remember now!" Gin stated, recognition coming to him out of nowhere. _He remembered his uncle speaking of the human boy he'd adopted_. _He hadn't realized that this was him_. "I'm sorry. Yes, I'm Gin Ichimaru. You are my cousin, in a sense, yes?"

"I guess ya could say that, yeah."

Silence fell and it was thick and awkward. Gin glanced around, surveying his surroundings and taking in the weird décor. _He was sure there was a lot that he needed to learn about this dimension, aside from the questions he already had for Kisuke_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo woke in his bed to a screaming headache and the sun streaming through the small cracks in his blinds. He squinted and scowled, groaning as he threw a hand over his eyes to block the offending light. The next thing to register in his mind was the soreness of his body and the ache in the back of his head. Then, he remembered the beating he had taken the night before and sighed.

 _All he'd wanted to do was get home and sleep_.

With the recollection of the previous night's activities came the realization that he'd basically been saved by his blue-haired house guest. He remembered being extremely happy and relieved to see Grimmjow and then...nothing. He'd passed out.

 _How fucking embarrassing_.

Ichigo tried to sit up, his scowl deepening when he realized that he couldn't. There appeared to be a steel bar placed across his stomach that was preventing him from doing anything more than rolling over. Then, he realized that the steel bar was an arm and that that arm was connected to the aforementioned blue-haired house guest.

 _Grimmjow_.

The man had his face tucked against Ichigo's shoulder, his free hand pillowing it and his long legs were curled up, the left thrown across Ichigo's thighs. Ichigo sighed and enjoyed the feeling of the bigger man using him as a body pillow. Grimmjow's body temperature seemed a bit higher than an average human being's, so he felt like he was laying beside a mini-furnace. _It wasn't entirely unwelcome, though_.

Ichigo rolled onto his side, facing the blunet and studied the peaceful face. Grimmjow had long, dark eyelashes that fanned his cheeks, his nose was straight and almost regal and his lips were full and oh so soft-looking. Ichigo wanted to close the space between him and the fairy and test the texture of those lips, just to see if his assumptions were correct.

 _Grimmjow was asleep, so maybe he wouldn't notice_.

He gathered the nerve and leaned forward, hesitating when Grimmjow's breath faltered slightly. Once the breathing returned to its previous state, he began moving forward again, this time closing his eyes, unaware of the widened blue ones watching him in astonishment. When he pressed his lips to Grimmjow's, he inwardly smiled, confirming that they were indeed soft. His hand unconsciously ran the length of the blunet's arm that was still haphazardly thrown across his waist.

It was a simple kiss, but comfortable, warm and somehow arousing. Ichigo wondered how kissing an awake Grimmjow would be. _Would the taller man mind? Or would he protest? Especially since he had given the guy the impression that he didn't want to be with him that way. He was confused_. Ichigo pulled back from the kiss and opened his eyes, only to have them widen in shock and mortification when he realized that Grimmjow was staring right at him. Shimmering blue eyes were wide and the mouth he'd just had his lips pressed to were parted in what Ichigo assumed was surprise.

"Ichigo," Grimmjow breathed, deep voice husky and tempting.

"Ah, Grimmjow, I'm sorr-"

Ichigo was cut off by those soft lips pressing urgently against his own. After the initial shock had worn off, he slid his hand up the bigger man's arm, over his shoulder, up his strong, yet elegant neck, and into his soft, thick bright blue hair. Grimmjow's arm tightened around his waist and his body edged closer, the leg thrown across Ichigo's hooking around his calf. His heart thundered in his chest as he tentatively swept his tongue across Grimmjow's bottom lip. Grimmjow jumped and pulled back, a small frown appearing between his brows and darkened blue eyes confused.

"Why did you...?" Grimmjow's voice trailed off, puzzled and Ichigo frowned as well.

"I'm...kissing...you," he uttered, just as confused.

"But...your tongue...was..."

Ichigo was flabbergasted. _Hadn't Grimmjow ever tongue-kissed before?_ The mood was kind of ruined, so he sat up and scratched the back of his head, glancing at Grimmjow, who was in the process of sitting up as well. The blunet wore a strange expression. It was a mixture of confusion, disappointment and anger. Ichigo dropped his hands to his lap and stared down at them. _This was disconcerting. He was sure that Grimmjow had been enjoying the kiss until he'd used his tongue_. _What was the big deal?_

"I've seen it done before, but I never understood why it looked as though kissing people were trying to eat each other's faces off," Grimmjow rumbled quietly.

Ichigo's eyebrows shot to his hairline as he turned to face the blue-haired man. _Seen it done before?_

_What?_

"What do you mean? Y-you've never kissed before?"

Grimmjow's intense blue eyes captured his gaze as he slowly shook his head in the negative. Ichigo quickly turned away, hiding his astonished expression. _He didn't want to make the man feel like he was making fun of him, but...holy shit! What the hell did that mean? Did Grimmjow only take lovers and not kiss them as a personal pet peeve?_ Ichigo knew there were some weirdos out there that just didn't like to kiss, so did that mean Grimmjow was one of those people? A thought flitted across his mind, but Ichigo refused to entertain it. _That was fucking impossible. Grimmjow couldn't be a fucking virgin...could he?_

Ichigo faced the sullen blunet and after taking a deep breath for courage, he carefully inquired, "Grimmjow...are you a...virgin?"

The bigger man averted his gaze, but not before Ichigo spotted the blush spreading over his cheeks. His heart rate again picked up as he realized that Grimmjow had just confirmed the notion Ichigo had thought to have been impossible.

_Ludicrous. Outrageous. How could a man so suited for sex, be a damned virgin?_

"S-so...you..." Ichigo didn't know how to respond. He was confused and utterly astonished at this turn of events. _Not to mention, he still wanted to kiss the guy_.

Grimmjow peeked at him from the corner of his eye and grunted, "Teach me." It had been said so softly that Ichigo had almost missed it.

"T-teach you what exactly?" he asked incredulously, wondering if Grimmjow had just inadvertently asked him to take his virginity.

Grimmjow scowled and gave him a withering glare, "To kiss, stupid!" he snapped.

"O-oi! Don't yell at me!" Ichigo snapped back, face afire. _This was so fucking awkward_. "You could've meant-" he slammed his mouth shut before he could continue to make a colossal ass of himself.

Grimmjow grinned lecherously and leaned towards him, blue eyes gleaming devilishly, "Oh? Could've meant what, Ichigo?" he asked.

Ichigo felt his blush spread down to his neck and up to his ears, but refused to be outdone. Instead of answering the teasing question, he gripped Grimmjow's chin - inwardly grinning wickedly when the man's smile faltered and his eyes widened – and covered the blunet's mouth with his own. Grimmjow instantly relaxed and leaned into him, his breath leaving him in a soft sigh. Ichigo let his hand travel from the slightly pointed chin, over the strong jaw and up to tangle in that mess of blue hair, while Grimmjow's right hand came to rest on his left thigh.

After gently moving his mouth over Grimmjow's, he hesitantly ran his tongue across the man's full bottom lip. This time Grimmjow didn't jump or pull back, but he did seem to freeze, so Ichigo pulled back a fraction and murmured against the blue-haired man's lips, "Open your mouth."

Grimmjow opened his eyes and frowned a bit before rolling them closed and following Ichigo's instructions. Ichigo swallowed and leaned in, going for broke as he delved his tongue into the bigger man's mouth. Grimmjow's hand gripped his thigh as he grunted and leaned in closer. After a little coaxing, Grimmjow got the idea and began to return the kiss, letting his tongue pet and dance with Ichigo's.

 _Oh boy_.

Ichigo hadn't expected the man to catch on so quickly and be so adept at it. Warmth coiled in his pelvis as the kiss deepened further, Ichigo tightening his grip in Grimmjow's thick, blue hair. Then Grimmjow was moving, using his free hand to push him backwards and down onto the bed. Once Ichigo's back hit the comforter, Grimmjow maneuvered himself over him, pushing a knee between his legs and brushing his rapidly growing arousal.

_Wh-what the hell just happened?_

Both of his hands buried themselves in the blunet's hair with an almost desperate urgency. _Kami, Grimmjow tasted good; like cinnamon toothpaste_. Grimmjow's right hand roamed his side, made its way up to his shoulder, then up to his neck, where it rested, cupping the side firmly.

 _Oh god_.

Ichigo felt like a licking and spitting bonfire. He just knew he was about to set his bed ablaze. His back arched him upwards against the taller man above him, their bodies aligning like Legos, his toes curling. "Shit," he gasped as Grimmjow pulled back.

Ichigo threw his head back against his blanket, eyes still screwed shut. He could hear Grimmjow breathing like a marathon runner and knew that his own breathing matched it. He was hard as a ton of bricks and wanted nothing more than to let the beautiful blunet have his way with him, but that would be hard since said blunet had no clue what to do. Ichigo couldn't believe he had been the guy's first kiss, especially after a performance such as that. Grimmjow had kissed him like a certified pro.

 _God, the possibilities_.

Ichigo took a deep breath and just happened to register the presence of something extremely hard pressing into his thigh. He didn't even need to glance down to know what that "something" was. _It only served to turn him on even more_. He let his hands fall from Grimmjow's hair as he finally opened his eyes. Grimmjow was staring down at him, blue eyes darkened and shining with lust, while his mouth hung open.

Ichigo arched a brow at the helpless expression on the man's face, "What's wrong?" he asked, running a hand down the side of that damn near angelic face.

Grimmjow briefly closed his eyes before reopening them and shaking his head, "Nothing wrong. That was fucking amazing," he murmured and collapsed onto Ichigo's chest, burying his face into his neck.

Ichigo coughed in surprise as the wind was knocked from his already deprived body. _Grimmjow was fucking heavy_. Yet...he didn't want him to move, so he kept his mouth shut and rubbed the man's back, nearly humming with sexual tension.

"So, I guess you're not mad at me anymore," he stated, closing his eyes and preparing to go back to sleep.

Grimmjow scoffed, his warm breath fluttering against Ichigo's neck, "Dumbass."


	8. The Truth

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Aizen was seated comfortably on his over-sized, white throne, his right elbow lounging on the arm of it and his hand cupping his face as he stared down at his dark-haired general. Ulquiorra was lowered to one knee with his right arm brought across his chest, the hand closed into a fist and his left arm pulled behind his back. _The true picture of servitude_.

"Aizen, sir, you called for me," he stated, voice a monotone drawl.

Aizen smirked and nodded slightly, "I did. I require your presence when I leave for the other dimension to search for the Elorian prince. You and Tousen will accompany me, as well as the sorcerer creating La Garganta for me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Aizen, sir."

"Good. You may go," he stated with a careless wave of his left hand.

Ulquiorra abruptly rose and with one last bow, swept from the throne room of Las Noches. Aizen sighed as he observed several of his servants moving about the large, stark-white room. He was bored and quickly growing restless and impatient, eager to begin his search for the blue-haired fairy prince. _The sooner he began, the sooner he would have him by his side_.

Leaning back in his throne, he steepled his fingers before his face, a small smile creasing the bottom half of his features. _Grimmjow would make a fine addition to his collection of those that served him, as far as pleasure went_. The thought led him to one of his former pets, making his brow twitch in annoyance. _He would get his hands on the silver-haired fairy, Gin, and tear him apart with his bare hands for that spell he had so graciously bestowed upon his arms_.

Unable to sit still a moment longer, Aizen rose from his throne and strode down the stairs, his sudden movement making his servants scurry away in fear. He grinned. _As they should_. _He knew he was now the most powerful being in existence and the feeling was more intoxicating than any wine_. He threw his shoulders back and marched to the huge, double doors that swung open as he neared them, they too recognizing his power and bowing before it.

A short walk through the pristine white corridors of his palace and he'd reached the room he'd assigned the pink-haired sorcerer. He pushed it open without knocking or announcing himself and stepped inside, his upper lip threatening to curl back in distaste as he took in his surroundings. Large, clear jars were littered about the room, containing bits and pieces of different specimens and the smell emanating from who-knew-where was foul enough to singe the hairs in his nose.

He paused at the door, silently observing the sorcerer, who hadn't made a move to acknowledge his presence and was currently stooped over a wide, iron cauldron, inspecting its contents. Aizen cleared his throat and shifted his weight to his left foot. _He didn't like the aura coming from this room, but he was curious as to what the sorcerer was doing_. Finally, the pink-haired man glanced over in his direction and grinned saucily.

"Aizen, sir. How may I be of service?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

He had a mind to kill the annoying man, but he still needed La Garganta, so he reined in his urge, "How soon can I expect La Garganta to be completed?"

Szayel (he'd only just remembered the man's name) straightened to his full height and stroked his chin, his honey-colored eyes turning up towards the high ceiling, "I would say five more days, but there is a way to speed the process along," he stated coyly, those calculating eyes lowering to meet his own once more.

He felt a surge of anger before he distinguished it and forced himself to be calm, "Why was I not informed of this sooner?"

"I apologize, Aizen, sir," Szayel answered with a low bow. _He didn't seem remorseful in the slightest_.

"What is this process you speak of?" Aizen asked, inwardly counting the days before the pink-haired sorcerer's usefulness was through.

"If I can study the location of the last La Garganta, I may be able to use leftover traces of reiatsu to track where they emerged in the other dimension," Szayel responded, bending at the waist again to study the inside of his cauldron, now making a disgusting gloppy sound.

Aizen nodded, then held up a hand, "If you're able to do this, to which degree does the time frame shorten?"

"I would have La Garganta done within two days."

Aizen smiled for the first time since entering the sorcerer's room, "That is indeed wonderful news, Szayel. I will have Tousen direct you to the location you desire," he stated with finality.

Szayel bowed, "Yes, Aizen, sir."

He turned and quickly left the smelly room, trying not to let his displeasure show on his face. Once he was again traveling through the corridors of his palace, a cold grin graced his features.

 _Two more days, dear blue-haired prince_...

XOXOXO

Grimmjow rolled onto his side and grinned, when upon opening his eyes, he was face-to-face with a still slumbering Ichigo. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the shorter man's nose, making it wrinkle before the red head sighed and smirked in his sleep. Grimmjow felt like he was filled to the brim with cotton balls and clouds as he studied Ichigo.

He was glad that Ichigo had finally stopped denying that he was attracted to him. He was even more glad that Ichigo had taught him how to kiss. What had first turned out to be a mortifying situation, quickly morphed into a smoldering predicament. _He had never been that aroused in his life and just thinking of the way Ichigo felt, smelled, tasted, the way the younger man's tongue had twirled with and caressed his own was enough to have him stupid and excited all over again_.

If only he'd known what to do after kissing Ichigo, he would have done it. _He was pretty sure that that kind of kissing led to sex and if not, it should be a crime. There was no way something so completely erotic and thoroughly arousing didn't lead to intercourse_. Grimmjow sighed in frustration. _He hated being a virgin so much. Then again, if Ichigo was willing to show him the ropes, then being a virgin wasn't such a horrendous thing_.

Grinning, he extricated himself from Ichigo's arms and headed for the bathroom.

 _He really had to pee_.

He left the bedroom and was stopped in his tracks, upon seeing the silver-haired fairy that had assisted himself, Nnoitra and Neliel in the escape from their world. He glanced around the room, noting the presence of Kisuke, Neliel, Nnoitra, and the blond human, Shinji.

_What the hell was going on? And why was the silver-haired fairy there?_

"Your Highness," the silver-haired fairy stated before dipping into a low bow.

Grimmjow scowled slightly, but nodded his acknowledgment. "Ah, Grimmjow, you're here after all. This is my nephew, Gin Ichimaru. He's told me that he-"

"Helped us escape Eloria," Grimmjow interrupted Kisuke. "Yes, I remember him. What's he doing here?" Deciding to address Gin himself, he turned back to the silver-haired fairy, "Why are you here?"

Gin's slanted eyes slitted open a bit, revealing scarlet-hued irises, "Aizen and his second in command were getting too close to finding me, so I had to come here. I also have much to discuss with my uncle," he finished with a stern glance in Kisuke's direction.

Kisuke smiled benignly, but Grimmjow had come to recognize that smile as the older fairy's calm before the storm expression. Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair and edged towards the couch where Neliel and Nnoitra were seated. _He supposed now was a good time to get some answers out of Kisuke and his nephew, Gin_.

"Why were my people attacked? And who is this Aizen person?" he asked, disgruntled and annoyed.

Kisuke beat Gin to the punch in answering his question, "Sosuke Aizen is a Roande fairy who believes that he is the last of his clan. He was young during the time of The Great Betrayal and truly believed that your father, Roderic Jaegerjaques, had his entire clan wiped out because of some absurd rumor. He was on a mission to avenge his clan."

"H-how do you know that?" Gin asked, his demeanor extremely uncomfortable and surprised.

Kisuke glanced at him and freed his paper fan from the left sleeve of his olive green tunic. He snapped it open and waved it in front of his face a few times before answering, "There are many things that I know," he stated mysteriously and Grimmjow felt a growl rumble past his lips before he had a chance to stifle it. _With Kisuke being so close-mouthed, there was no way he would find out what the hell was going on in his homeland_.

"So, you knew of Aizen before I told you about him?" Gin continued to question. _It was a good question_. One that Grimmjow would like to hear the answer to, as well.

Kisuke nodded and took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly as he turned his dark gaze in Grimmjow's direction, "I'm sure you're wondering why I, a fairy, am living in this dimension, yes?" he started and Grimmjow nodded. "I was sent by my brother-in-law, your father, Gin. Touran gave me a certain task to uphold and that is why I have been here. Not to do research, although this dimension holds many wonders that our world has yet to discover."

"What was your task?" Grimmjow and Gin asked simultaneously.

Kisuke gave a small grin, "I have been in communication with our world, ever since my arrival in this one. I have also been keeping up with the royal family of Eieren, of course," he answered as if it were obvious.

Grimmjow, on the other hand, nearly fell off the couch in shock. _What did Kisuke mean? The clan of Eieren had been destroyed years ago; it was impossible for the royal family to still be in existence. The last he'd heard, there had been NO survivors. The same with Roande, but now, supposedly, this Aizen was a Roande fairy_. _Too much information had been dished out and he was having a hard time digesting it all_. Nnoitra and Neliel both jumped to their feet in absolute astonishment, staring at Kisuke with mouths wide open and eyes comically wide. They were too stunned to form words, but Gin had no problems in that area.

"You mean, you know who the Eieren royal family is? And who have you been communicating with?" he breathed, gaze fixated on his uncle's face.

"You already know the answer to that. Jyuushiro Ukitake was and still is my contact in our world. And of course, I know the Eieren royal family. I accompanied them here and assisted them with life on this side. We've had to keep their identities a secret, for the sake of blending in, but they are alive and well," Kisuke responded, but then his face fell and his voice lowered with remorse. "Sadly, that excludes the queen. She passed on in an accident, but the king and their three children still live," he continued in their native tongue.

Grimmjow frowned at that. _Why had the blond reverted to their language, when it was obvious that everyone knew this Japanese language?_ Kisuke's dark eyes went to Shinji and alarms shrieked in Grimmjow's mind, but before he could question anything, Ichigo emerged from his bedroom and paused in the doorway, his eyes traveling over the occupants of the sitting room.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

Grimmjow squirmed and fought to hide a blush as he observed Ichigo. His bright orange hair was mussed, sticking up all over his head and his face held sleep lines as if he'd been pressed against something hard that had imprinted itself into his skin. His velvety brown eyes were half-lidded and all he wore was a pair of dark-blue boxers that were hanging enticingly low on his slim hips. Grimmjow bit his bottom lip and looked away from the all too appealing sight as his mind was flung towards their earlier kiss.

Ichigo had really soft lips and he tasted better than any food or drink Grimmjow had ever had in his life. He also realized he was behaving like a love-sick little girl and it made him inwardly cringe. He felt eyes on him and noticed Nnoitra eyeing him with amusement as he glanced back and forth between Ichigo and himself, lowering his tall frame back to the couch. Even Kisuke and Gin were watching him with arched brows.

 _Shit_.

Grimmjow chanced a peek at Ichigo and unconsciously held his breath when his eyes locked with the red head's. Ichigo grinned softly and rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his stance as he lowered his gaze, his cheeks turning pink. _Oh, great. They were so obvious, standing (or rather sitting in his case) around like teenagers with a crush_.

"Well," Gin started, a faint smirk widening the crease in his face that was his mouth, "How surprising."

Grimmjow gave him a dark glare before turning to Kisuke, who was also grinning like the cat that ate the canary, "So, who's this royal family? Do we know them?" he asked, embarrassed that he'd been caught staring and blushing.

That wiped the smile from Kisuke's face as he shook his head, "I don't think it's safe to answer that question just yet, Prince."

This confused him and made him wrinkle his nose. Kisuke was still speaking in their native tongue and Grimmjow knew there was something residing under the surface that he should have been grasping, but was unable to at the moment, his mind still irrevocably glued to the red head still standing in his bedroom doorway half naked.

Shinji stood and glared at Kisuke, hands on his narrow hips, "What the hell is goin' on that ya gotta talk that fairy language?" he snapped, his dark eyes lit with an inner fire.

Kisuke stared him down as if willing the younger blond to back away from his proposed question, but Shinji was more stubborn than he'd expected, Grimmjow supposed. Shinji shifted his stance and cocked his head to the side, eyes still glued to his adopted father. Kisuke sighed and averted his gaze, "I cannot speak on it at the moment, Shinji. It's too sensitive a subject," he finally answered, his own dark eyes full of regret.

Shinji narrowed his eyes and quirked his lips before nodding and retaking his seat, "Fine, but ya've got some explainin' ta do later."

Grimmjow frowned, brought back to the situation at hand by Shinji's outburst, "Well, when can I have the answer to my question? It would be nice to know the royal family of Eieren," he rumbled, rubbing his chin in thought. After years of thinking his clan was the last surviving clan of fae, his beliefs had been altered, yet the whole truth had yet to be revealed.

"I will have to gather the others and discuss it first. The king will have to give his permission considering it involves himself and his children, of course," Kisuke's voice was also thoughtful as he passed his paper fan before his face, "And then, there are the guardians of the royal family. Arara, there's so much to do," he sighed, exaggerating.

"I'll accompany you, Uncle, if you don't mind," Gin stated, his face rather serious.

Kisuke nodded at the same time that Grimmjow felt a nudge in his ribs. He scowled and glanced over at Nnoitra, who was staring at him, his slanted, violet eye wide, "I think I know who the royal family is," he mouthed, trying not to gain the attention of the older, blond fairy.

Grimmjow's eyebrows flew skyward and his mouth parted slightly, "Really?" he mouthed back.

Nnoitra nodded and turned his gaze back to Kisuke, leaving Grimmjow to contemplate what his best friend was trying to tell him. _Would Nnoitra's assumptions be correct, or just that: assumptions?_ The sound of a door closing, drew his attention to the bathroom and he realized that Ichigo had left his spot in his bedroom doorway. _He wished he could follow the red head into the smaller room and have him kiss him again_.

 _Maybe Ichigo would be willing to teach him how to do more than just kiss_.

XOXOXO

Gin glanced around his uncle's home and sighed. It was messy and cluttered. There were scrolls and books on top of books littering the entire space, making Gin wonder how the man maneuvered in such a tiny area. He set his large bag in a corner and delicately stepped over several books that lay splayed across the beige carpeted floor. He made his way towards a long, cushioned seat and plopped onto it after shoving more books to the side.

"Uncle, how can you live like this? There's barely room to walk around," he uttered, eyes roaming the messy room.

Kisuke grinned and stepped over a few books to reach the far side of the room, where he picked up a white device and began tapping, making it emit soft beeping sounds, "I call it organized chaos. It may look cluttered and filthy, but everything has its place," he answered distractedly as he held the device up to his ear. After a brief moment of waiting, he began speaking, making Gin frown in confusion. The same thing had happened with Shinji earlier and he still didn't understand the meaning of it. "Yes, Your Highness – I mean, ara! Old habits die hard, Isshin. Yes, we need to call a meeting of the royal court. Yes. My place will be fine. Yes. Eight o'clock it is and Isshin? There are certain people that need answers. Are you willing to give them? Right. Ok, see you then."

His uncle lowered the device after tapping another button, his eyes unfocused as his mind obviously wandered. Gin was just excited to be a part of something so historical and deep. _He couldn't believe he would be seeing the actual king of the supposedly extinct Eieren clan_. "So, does this mean he will arrive this evening?" he asked, unsure of what eight o'clock meant.

"Yes, he and the rest of the royal court will be here at eight o'clock tonight."

Gin pursed his lips, unwilling to sound like a fool in front of his uncle, but also curious, "I don't know what this eight o'clock means," he stated shamefully.

Kisuke grinned, "No, I suppose you wouldn't. It's what the humans here refer to as time. They distinguish the hour of the day by numbers. I'll explain it to you further some other time. Right now, will you help me prepare for the king's arrival?"

"Yes, of course."

**XxxxxX**

After much cleaning and book-stacking, Gin and his uncle were ready to entertain the presence of the king. Gin was fidgety and excited, his heart racing madly as he wondered what the Eieren king was like. _Was he charming and regal like the image in the mural he'd seen, or was he strict and chilly?_ Kisuke emerged from his small kitchen holding a large, silver platter of some type of strange-looking food that he set down onto a low, wooden table, situated in front of the long, cushioned seat Gin was currently perched on.

The food smelled interesting, yet tasty and he was curious as to what it was. Before he could question his uncle, though, there was a loud rapping at the door to the "apartment", making him jump and reach inside his robes for a disarming spell. His uncle chuckled at his reaction and floated towards the door, his paper fan out and waving back and forth.

"Just the door, Gin," he sang.

Gin frowned a bit before relaxing his muscles and removing his hand from his robes. He watched Kisuke wrap a hand around the knob and slowly, dramatically pull the door open, revealing a tall man with long, jet-black hair. His face was slack and expressionless, but his deep, violet eyes hinted at the danger lurking underneath that unconcerned facade. He wore a white, short-sleeved, collared shirt, strange blue pants and a pair of white sandals of some sort. Gin wasn't sure of the clothing of this world.

The man behind him made Gin hold his breath as his eyes slitted open, icy blue locking with glinting onyx. _It was undeniably the man from the mural, only his black hair was much shorter and standing up on his head_. He was tall and broad, obviously muscular. He was dressed in a short-sleeved, collared shirt as well, but his was covered in brightly-colored, strange-looking flowers of some sort. He also wore a pair of the weird blue pants and weird sandals. The two men trooped into the apartment followed by another, shorter... _man?_

He was pale as the moon and his eyes...they were very peculiar. Black sclera and golden irises. His short, spiky hair was almost as pale as his skin and he seemed to be the only one wearing any type of facial expression. His face was split into a wide, carefree, yet devilish smirk. His clothes were identical to what the man with the long, dark hair wore and Gin noticed that both men carried large, black, rectangular cases on their backs.

Once the men had filed into the apartment and Kisuke had shut the door, the king stood before Gin, studying him, with his head cocked to the side and a strange grin tilting the corners of his wide mouth. Suddenly, the larger man lurched forward and dragged him into a back-breaking hug, lifting Gin's slighter form from his seat.

"UWAAAHHH! YOU LOOK JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!" the king shouted, tears sliding down his cheeks and under his scruffy jaws.

Gin was stunned into speechlessness. _Was this the way a king was supposed to behave before his subjects?_ He turned puzzled eyes to his uncle, the king's enthusiastic grip crushing his ribs. _The older man's strength was unquestionable, that was for certain_.

"Uncle! What is the meaning of this?" His voice came out a strangled gasp.

Kisuke chuckled and sauntered over to the king, tapping him on one broad shoulder with his paper fan, "Isshin, I believe you're killing my nephew," he stated with a wide grin.

The king pulled back and peered into Gin's face, his dark eyes still glistening, "Oh! I'm sorry, young Ichimaru." With that, Gin was dropped to the floor, wheezing and rubbing his sides.

 _The king was insane_.

The albino man came to stand beside the king, his large, chilling grin still firmly in place, "Yer lucky he likes ya," he told Gin.

"Uhn," he grunted, still trying to catch his breath as he warily eyed the Eieren king.

 _He wondered how quickly he would be struck down if he decided to cast a spell on the man_.

The stoic, raven-haired man edged closer as well and stared down at him, "That would be rather unwise," he droned, hand on the strap of the large case on his back.

"Well, Sir, if thas all, I'll be goin' up ta visit King. We gotta project due tamorrow," the albino commented, doubling back towards the door.

The king smiled widely and whirled, giving him a salute, "I'll be up in a bit!"

"Alrighty," the albino muttered and left the apartment, leaving Gin to stare in fascination at the Eieren king.

Kisuke cleared his throat and snapped his fan shut, "Isshin, there is much to be discussed," he said somberly, making the taller, dark-haired male turn to him, his face equally solemn.

"Of course. What about?" King Isshin asked as he moved to the long, cushioned seat and plopped down onto it.

The long-haired man went to the wall near the door and folded his arms across his chest, his face blank, but eyes curious and alert. Kisuke perched himself on the arm of the seat King Isshin rested on and blew out a breath as he glanced at Gin, "Aizen has made his move."


	9. The Truth Continued

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Toshiro sat in the dimly lit, musty basement of the home he'd shared with his uncle, mouth hanging open and heart performing on a trapeze. His throat was dry as peeling skin, making it hard for him to swallow. He was seated at his uncle's old work desk, perusing the books he'd already seen probably more than a million times, but this time, there was something that had caught his eye that he'd never seen. _Or rather had never paid much attention to, thinking he wouldn't recognize the fading name_.

Toshiro had opened the book on Faery that morning, ready to do heavy research, when he'd decided to go over every inch of it, leaving nothing unturned, nothing unexplored. He started with the inside of the front cover, wiping away dust and trying to decipher the name written in an elegant script. All he saw was Y-M-O-T-O.

He supposed he should have guessed from there, considering how much of a fanatic his uncle had been, but after a little scratching aside dust and old dirt particles, the name finally revealed itself, leaving him a quivering pile of thunderstruck.

 _His uncle had been the author of the book_.

He didn't quite know how to handle that bit of information. _For one, it meant the book wasn't as old as he'd once thought and two, how was he supposed to differentiate what was truth and what was fiction? Had his uncle made everything up? Had the man really been crazy? Or did Faery really exist?_

Toshiro massaged his eyes with his fingertips and let out a slow sigh. He also had to account for what he'd seen the night before. There was no way a human male could throw other human males from himself single-handedly. And Toshiro meant that to be quite literally.

 _So, if what his uncle had written about was in fact true, how did he know about the Fae and Faery to begin with? It was much too baffling and it wasn't like he could just ask the man for answers, since he was dead and gone_. _Not to mention, his uncle had been the only family he'd known, the man raising him from the age of five_. _He vaguely remembered a dark-haired woman with eyes like his, but she resided in the very furthest recesses of his mind_.

Toshiro huffed in frustration and glanced around the basement that was no larger than a sitting room. There were piles upon piles of books, covered in dust and propped up against the walls, or just stacked in the middle of the gray, cement floor. After Yamamoto-san had passed, Toshiro had never taken the time to go through his things and get rid of the unnecessary, or keep the essential. He couldn't tell the difference, by reason of the man treating every last one of his possessions like they were the most flawless diamonds.

For once during his eye-search of the room, Toshiro noticed a strange-looking, black trunk in the corner. It had been hidden by a few piles of books that had managed to topple over. _He'd probably knocked them over while he'd been searching for something_. Frowning, he rose from the navy blue, cushioned rolling chair and carefully made his way to the trunk. He squatted down beside it and studied it, frown deepening as he realized there was something written on the lid. It must have been a different language because, for the life of him, he couldn't make out what it said. He had never seen anything like it before, either.

He pulled a white handkerchief from his back pocket and used it to wipe away a thin layer of dust that had been coating the lid. There was a latch, but it didn't appear to be locked. _It must not be very important if his uncle hadn't even bothered to lock the thing_. _Then again, his uncle's memory had been quite scarce in his last few months of living_. _He'd probably opened it and forgot to lock it up when he was done_.

Toshiro shrugged and lifted the latch, a puff of dust floating upwards, causing him to lean his head to the side in order to dodge it. The hinges creaked as he drew back the lid, but instead of the musty smell he'd been expecting, the inside of the trunk smelled sweet and fresh. _Like a meadow in the Spring_. He peered inside and his eyes widened upon seeing nothing but filmy white. He reached a hesitant hand inside and pulled the white material aside, gasping softly when it slid over his fingers like watery silk.

He tugged gently and held the whisper soft cloth into the air, marveling at its consistency. It was a white dress, but he had never encountered that kind of fabric in his life. In fact, he was almost positive that it hadn't been made by any human. _Then, there was the smell_. What had once been a light and airy fragrance was now stronger, almost like a seductive perfume. Toshiro didn't want to toss the dress on the floor, so he stood and carried it to his uncle's old desk, where he carefully draped it over the top, then stood back to take another look at it.

It was long and scooped low in the front. The material of the petticoats was silver and of the same satiny cloth, just more sheer than its outer layers. In short, the dress was quite beautiful and Toshiro was sure that whoever had worn it, had been of equal beauty.

He went back to the trunk and let his eyes roam the contents. He didn't know what to make of a small, circular object. It was a sphere around the size of a baseball, but it was clear and filled with a silvery, glittering sand. He touched it and jumped back, startled when he registered the warmth. It felt like someone had been keeping it in their pocket and had just removed it to let him hold it.

When he realized nothing would happen from him handling it, he reached inside and picked it up, turning it over gently in his palm. It was indeed warm, yet the casing felt like a thick layer of glass. He didn't understand it and he certainly didn't know what the hell it was.

He placed it back inside the trunk and moved to the next item his eyes had passed over. It appeared to be a simple teddy bear, but the clothing was strange and one of the onyx-colored eyes were missing. The bear was gray and wore a crimson robe, a wheat-colored rope tied around its waist. A longer, white robe was worn over the crimson one, but left open.

When he picked up the bear, an overwhelming sense of nostalgia crashed over him and left him gasping for air as he dropped it. He literally felt as if he'd been drowning. He clutched his chest and stared down at the seemingly harmless bear.

_What the hell had that been?_

Going against his better judgment, he reached for it again and this time brought it up to his nose. The smell emanating from it reminded him of those old cigars his uncle used to smoke, until he'd made him quit. It was less potent, but just as rich. Then, without warning, he felt like his very soul had been jerked roughly, but left to settle back inside his body. He gasped and blinked away the sudden onslaught of tears gathering in his eyes.

His vision blurred, the basement faded away and suddenly, he was in a stark white room, where there was nothing but a high-backed, wooden chair. Everything was white, from the floor to the ceiling and it confused him. He was seated on the floor, still clutching the bear, when a woman appeared out of nowhere, seated in the wooden chair. More like she shimmered into existence, like a smoke apparition.

Toshiro felt his eyes go wide as he stared at the woman seated in the chair. She seemed faintly familiar and was watching him in amusement, her large, aqua eyes warm and loving. She had the longest, darkest hair he'd ever seen in his life. It was so dark, it shone and seemed to flow like a black river, cascading over her shoulders to hang down to the pristine floor, where it pooled in a silken pile. Her skin was pale as porcelain and her full lips were pink and curved into a kind smile. She had dainty hands that were folded in her lap and the long, silver gown she wore, gathered around her equally dainty feet in an elegant mound.

"Hello, Toshiro," she greeted, her voice what Toshiro thought angels sounded like.

With wide eyes he replied, "H-hello."

She grinned and brushed a stray strand of that lustrous, inky hair behind a...pointed ear. Toshiro jerked like he'd been kicked. "You're all grown up, now," she said softly.

He frowned, his eyes swiveling to take in his surroundings before giving the ethereal woman his full attention again, "How do you know me?" he queried.

Her smile widened and displayed two rows of perfectly straight, sparkling, lily-white teeth, "I see my father didn't tell you the truth before he went to the Resting Life," she commented. Toshiro was beyond baffled, so he chose to remain silent. Luckily, the woman went on, "Genryuusai Yamamoto was my father and you, my dear boy, are my son."

He blinked. His mouth seemed to drop open in super-slow motion, his gut easing its way towards his knees. "What?" His voice didn't even sound like his own; it seemed more fitting for a mouse. "I-I don't...Yamamoto-san was my..." his voice trailed off as he tried to digest what he'd just been told.

 _It didn't make sense_. _None of it_. He openly stared at the beautiful woman claiming to be his mother, mind refusing to work properly. He couldn't seem to piece together the mishmash his thoughts had become and it was starting to frustrate him. _Yamamoto-san had been his uncle, not his grandfather_.

 _Then again_... _Yamamoto-san had been rather old to be an uncle, unless he was a great-uncle, but the man had only ever referred to himself as Toshiro's uncle_. _Not great-uncle and certainly not grandfather_.

Forcing himself to speak, he said, "Why wouldn't he tell me something as important as that? Why don't I remember-" he stopped himself as his eyes again widened, threatening to pop right out of his head.

 _He did remember her, but just barely_. She was the woman that his mind pictured from all those years ago; he just didn't remember her ears being pointy. If he concentrated really hard, he was able to recall being tucked into bed by the dark-haired woman before him. She had kissed him and told him she loved him, then stuck a stuffed toy beside him for him to snuggle through the night.

He glanced down at the bear in his hands and gasped so quietly, it was almost inaudible. The woman must have heard him because he could practically hear her smile when she said, "That's your Hyorinmaru."

He gave the stuffed toy another look and frowned. He kind of remembered something along those lines. Tearing his eyes away from the bear, he stared the woman down. They did have the same eyes and nose; even their mouths were the same. Not to mention, he remembered her from his childhood, even if it was only vaguely.

"What are you?" he blurted. His brain-mouth filter had fallen by the wayside as he studied the angelic woman. _She was so beautiful, it was almost hard to look at her_.

"My name is Lunera and I am what is in your heart, Toshiro. I can feel that you know of the Fae. Don't deny what you know to be true," she stated and her voice carried like a heavenly song.

Toshiro was numb, no longer able to feel astonishment. If he followed his instincts, then he would have to believe that this woman was, not only a fairy, but also his mother, which made him at least half fairy. "Why didn't Yamamoto-san tell me about any of this? I don't understand," he muttered, unable to meet her warm gaze, for fear of finding pity or sympathy. _He didn't need to feel even more helpless than he already did_.

"I believe he wanted to keep you safe. There are things happening in the Fae world that would have put you in danger, had your true identity been revealed," she answered and he chanced a glance in her direction.

Relief poured over him when he saw her watching him with a neutral stare. "What things?" he inquired. _Was that why the Elorian prince was in this dimension?_

Her bright eyes flashed and her brow furrowed for once. It did nothing to detract from her awesome beauty. "There are rogue Fae trying to destroy their own kind. It's despicable and horrendous. The entire Elorian clan was wiped out, including the king and queen. Such a sad time," she mourned, her lips turning down in the corners and tears glistening in her eyes.

Toshiro opened his mouth and closed it. _That answered the question of why the Elorian prince was in this dimension_. _Still_... _what did that mean for his people? For the Fae in general?_ _If he remembered correctly, there were no other survivors after the fall of the Eieren clan and The Great Betrayal had taken care of the Roande clan twenty years ago_. _Hadn't it?_

 _Wait_...

"Um," he paused, unsure of how to address the woman. Did he call her mom or Lunera? "How do you know what's happening? Where are you? Where are we now?" he continued, eyes darting around the vast whiteness surrounding them.

She gave him a gentle smile and beckoned him closer with a wave of her tiny hand. Figuring he had nothing to fear from this woman, he edged closer, still on his knees and came to stop right in front of her. "This is a spell my father created for me before I went to the Resting Life. He was very gifted with things of that nature and he also had visions. Perhaps that is why he didn't bother to tell you the truth of your heritage," she spoke, her voice loosening the tense muscles across his shoulders. "He knew that I would leave for the Resting Life before he would, so he made sure that I would be able to see my son again afterward." She reached out a hand and ran it through his bang, her skin soft as feathers. "In the Resting Life, we are able to see both dimensions equally, meaning, we can be wherever we want in both worlds. Do you understand that?"

Toshiro nodded, unwilling to interrupt the lull her voice created. She smiled again and continued passing her hand through his hair. The actions comforted him and he found himself leaning forward to rest his head on her knee.

"This is how I'm able to see and know what is going on in both worlds. I also want you to know of your true heritage and...and of your father," her voice had tapered off into a whisper at that last statement.

Toshiro's ears twitched like a feline's as he turned luminous eyes upwards to focus on...his mother's...face. _He had always wondered who his parents were_. _All he'd known was that they both had died while he was young_. "Who is he? Is he human?" he quizzed.

She frowned and shook her head slightly, "No. He is Fae as well."

The declaration dropped like a large stone in a pond.

_What?_

"B-but that's not possible!" he exclaimed. "My ears...I'm not..." he trailed off, puzzled, his eyebrows cinched together.

His mother ran her hand through his hair again and sighed, the noise light and airy. "My father has much to answer for when I return to the Resting Life," she commented exasperatedly before continuing with, "Your father does not know of your existence. My father and I left our world after The Great Betrayal and I lost contact with him. W-we were meant to be married, but..." she paused and Toshiro noticed tears gliding over her cheeks. The sight was alarming. _He didn't think anyone that beautiful should be made to cry_.

"I'm sorry," he uttered, not really sure what he was even apologizing for, just knowing that he didn't like seeing his mother that way.

 _How easy it was to refer to her as his mother now_.

She chuckled and put a hand to his brow, "You need not apologize, Toshiro. You did nothing wrong, my love. It's just painful to remember the ruination of our clan and then my separation from your father. I would have loved for him to have met you," she said wistfully.

Toshiro quirked his lips in thought. He wondered what his father looked like. _Did they resemble one another? Was the man where Toshiro's ghostly white hair had come from?_ He gave his mother another look, "What was his name?"

A nostalgic grin pulled her full lips upwards, "Jyuushiro. Jyuushiro Ukitake. He was a very handsome man," she answered softly.

"Jyuushiro," he repeated, liking the way it rolled from his tongue.

"Yes. Speaking of your father, Toshiro. I have a mission for you, if you think you can handle it," she said, her tone teasing.

He tossed her a genuine smile and arched a snowy brow, "Of course, I can. I'm your son, after all."

Her shoulders and back straightened and her chest thrust forward in pride, "Good. You need to take a message to the Elorian prince. I know that you have seen him and have been tracking him. He and his comrades are in extreme danger. The fairy responsible for the fall of his people has found a way to come to this dimension and will be here soon. You have to warn him. Can you do this?" she urgently asked, her eyes glowing.

Toshiro felt his heart swell with honor. He was immensely proud to be in charge of such a task. _He just hoped they would listen to him_. "It would help if I actually looked like one of them," he mumbled, unaware that he'd spoken aloud until his mother's charming laughter filled his ears.

"But you already do, love. Once I was able to touch you, I released the cloaking spell your grandfather placed on you."

Toshiro knew his eyes were the size of eggs, but it had come as a shock to hear that. He reached up and felt the tips of his ears, marveling at the points. _He really did resemble them now_. He was still a bit confused, but he figured things would work themselves out in the long run. He frowned when he felt the air thickening and shimmering before him.

"I must go now, Toshiro. Do remember to warn the prince and maybe his friends can take you to see your father," his mother stated, her voice fading like the end of a song.

His heart rate quickened and he reached out to grab her, but she was gone, leaving his hands grasping nothing but air. Her last statement had completely thrown him for a loop. _Did she mean his father was still alive?_ Before he had a chance to analyze her words, the white room fell away and he was back in the basement of the home he'd grown up in, still clutching Hyorinmaru.

Toshiro took a moment to gather his bearings before he tucked the stuffed toy and white dress back into the trunk. He rubbed his hands together, mind still trying to wrap itself around all that he'd been told. He would have to dwell on the situation a bit later. _Right now, he had a job to do_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo shoved his legs into a pair of turquoise pajama pants, then pulled a plain, white tee over his head. He was in his bedroom, wondering why there seemed to have been yet another fairy in his living room. Urahara had been talking with a tall, silver-haired fairy, whose eyes didn't appear to be open and whose grin was far too wide for his face. He wore long, magenta robes and black, armored boots.

Ichigo wasn't even surprised anymore at the turn of events. _More like he was merely curious_.

He was standing in front of his closet, the door open as he changed. He didn't realize he had a visitor until strong arms wrapped around his waist and a warm body pressed against his back. He grinned, already knowing who it was holding him close as he leaned back a bit, his hands coming up to settle along the tanned forearms along his diaphragm.

"Ichigo," the familiar, deep voice stroked his ear, "kiss me again."

Ichigo felt his face ignite as he slowly turned to face the taller, blue-haired man. Grimmjow stood behind him, his hands falling to Ichigo's hips and ultramarine eyes intensely desirous. Ichigo grinned through the sudden surge of shyness enveloping him and slowly slid his arms around Grimmjow's strong neck. He lazily ran his fingers through feathery blue locks and sighed, wondering how he had won the attention of such an alarmingly stunning creature. "Ok," he murmured absently, a warm and gooey feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and constricting his chest.

He connected their lips and was instantly engulfed in flame. Not only that, but his heart slammed against his ribs in rapid succession as an emotion he was unfamiliar with surrounded him and made him wonder what the hell it was. Grimmjow gave an airy groan, his hands tightening on Ichigo's hips as he pressed his long body closer. Ichigo took the initiative and pried Grimmjow's mouth open, then gently drove his tongue inside. Their tongues interlaced and raveled, aggression levels gradually rising and heightening their senses. There wasn't even a hairsbreadth of space left between them and Ichigo could feel the accelerated pounding of the other man's heart against their aligned chests.

Grimmjow was warm and solid, his smell was soothing and arousing and his taste was intoxicating, better than any alcohol. Even though Ichigo had to stand on his toes some, he thoroughly enjoyed kissing Grimmjow and the thought of the blue-haired man being a mythical individual resided far far away, in the very corner of his conscience.

The kiss was wet and loud, the smacking noises filling the otherwise silent room. Ichigo was on fire, every nerve sensitive and anxious. He could feel Grimmjow's arousal against his hip and it made his lust spike pointedly. _He wanted Grimmjow to fill him to the brim with more than just his sex_.

 _He wanted the other man's heart as well_.

The thought bowled him over and made his own heart seize with astonishment and fear. _Had he really just thought that? Why would he want Grimmjow's heart?_

The unsettling direction of his thoughts made him break the kiss and just as he did so, there was a quiet knock at the open door. Ichigo flinched and withdrew his arms, glancing at the door nervously, wondering who had caught him and Grimmjow kissing.

Neliel stood in the doorway, gray eyes wide, "I-Ichigo, there's...there's someone here for you," she stated quietly, shifting her stance.

He sighed and gave Grimmjow a wary look. _He hoped it wasn't Renji and from the expression on the blunet's face, he had to be thinking along the same lines_. Grimmjow wore a scowl as he stared down at Ichigo. It seemed like he wasn't even registering the presence of his little sister and if he was, he didn't care that she'd just seen them kissing like a pair of lovers.

Grimmjow had his head cocked to the side as he studied Ichigo. Ichigo didn't know what was going on inside the man's head, but he was curious and a tad unsure of the look he was receiving. Through all of that, the haze of lust still circulated strongly in his blood and he still wanted to kiss Grimmjow. _Hell, he wanted to do much more than kiss him and he wanted the man to do much more than kiss him back_.

Ichigo sighed and ran a hand over his face as he turned his focus back to the green-haired girl in his doorway. "Did they give a name, Nel?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No. B-but, Ichigo, he-he's very strange," she stuttered and her nervousness made him inquisitive.

"What do you mean?"

"He's one of-"

"King!" a voice shouted from Nel's right, making her flinch and glance at the being cautiously.

Ichigo groaned, knowing exactly who his visitor was. _He'd forgotten he had told the annoying albino to come by, so they could work on an assignment that was due the next day_. _He hoped Grimmjow didn't take the man's presence the wrong way_. _He certainly wasn't interested in Shirosaki that way and would make his blue-haired house guest aware of it_.

Shirosaki swaggered into Ichigo's bedroom wearing a white, short-sleeved polo, blue jeans and black flip flops. He also carried a black sword case on his back and Ichigo screwed up his face. _He didn't know Shiro was into swords_.

"King! Ya fergot ab-" the albino's loud, boisterous voice died as he locked gazes with a bristling Grimmjow. His strange eyes widened a fraction before he caught himself and his face returned to its normal amused expression. "Didn' know ya had guests, King," he commented in a nonchalant manner, but Ichigo had already seen the shock that had been clearly written across his features for all of two seconds.

"Yeah, they're um...friends of mine and Shinji's. Let's go in the kitchen and get started. I'll be there as soon as I grab my stuff," Ichigo diverted.

He ignored the look of sheer skepticism he received from Shiro as he turned to his closet and dug around in the back for his backpack. "Yeah, ok," Shiro answered and Ichigo waited until the sound of footsteps died down before he turned to face Grimmjow, who was still standing in the middle of the bedroom, thick arms folded across his chest.

"Who's that?" he grunted, baritone voice gruff and agitated.

Ichigo shook his head exasperatedly, "He's my classmate. I forgot I promised to help him with an assignment today," he muttered, upset at his time with Grimmjow being interrupted.

Grimmjow was strangely silent for a minute, but a low growl soon erupted from his chest, "Does he like you, too?" he finally grumbled.

Ichigo grinned and slowly made his way over to the annoyed man. He reached up and pulled Grimmjow down to eye level, using the back of his neck, "No, but even if he did, it wouldn't matter. I like _you_ ," he responded before he took the time to gently press their lips together.

He stepped back, satisfied with the crooked smile gracing Grimmjow's exquisite features. He didn't wait for a response as he left the bedroom, knowing full-well that he would be followed into the kitchen. He just hoped Shirosaki didn't do anything to piss off the blue-haired man.


	10. Falling For You

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Ichigo settled himself at the kitchen table and plunked his backpack on top of it heavily. He was annoyed, nervous and a lot uncertain of what was about to occur. Nel had moved back into the living room and was seated on the couch, eyeing Shirosaki over the back of it like he was a coiled, poisonous snake. Normally, the expression on her face would have made Ichigo laugh, but he wasn't in a merry kind of mood at the moment.

Having completely forgotten about the visit from Shiro, he had allowed himself to get caught up in everything that was Grimmjow. _Kissing him, being close to him and feeling the taller man's heart beat against his own chest was like a drug, more specifically, ecstasy_. Ichigo had never felt that way about another person in his life and even though it made him feel higher than a giraffe's head, it also made him apprehensive.

 _He didn't know what to do with all these sudden emotions_.

Grimmjow followed right behind him and took a seat next to him at the table, piercing blue eyes drilling holes into Shirosaki, who merely watched the blue-haired fairy with amusement. The albino gave Grimmjow a sinister grin, full of pearly white teeth and honey-coated razors. Ichigo didn't know how it affected Grimmjow, but it made a chill slide down HIS back. That grin was creepy and promised things Ichigo really didn't want to know about the pale figure sitting at the head of the small kitchen table.

The tension that descended over the table was almost thick enough to taste and see. Ichigo cleared his throat, gaining each man's attention. "Shiro, did you bring your stuff?" he asked, trying to shoo away the ominous cloud of "kill" that hovered over the table.

Grimmjow glanced at him, diamond blue eyes softening a fraction. Ichigo felt something warm blossoming in his gut as he tried to fight an oncoming blush.

 _He lost, of course_.

Shirosaki turned his shark grin in Ichigo's direction and the intensity almost made him gasp. Shirosaki's eyes were glinting far too brightly with mischief and Ichigo didn't like the way the other man was staring him down. "Nah, ya got some extra paper, right?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and unzipped his backpack, pulling a thick, five-subject notebook free. "Yeah, Shiro."

Grimmjow grunted and rested his arms on the table, eyes back on Shiro and Shiro giving him an amused glance in return. The tension ratcheted back up and Ichigo sighed under his breath. _This wasn't going to end well; he could already feel a disaster looming on the horizon_. Grimmjow wouldn't stop glaring at his classmate and Ichigo was beginning to wonder if it only had to do with Shiro's presence.

"You do at least know what chapter the assignment is in, right?" Ichigo tried again, opening his notebook and carefully tearing out a few sheets along the serrated edges. He glanced up quickly and was glad to see Shiro nod. "Good."

Ichigo tugged his heavy History book out of his backpack and placed it before him, waiting for Shiro to guide him to the assignment chapter. When Shiro said nothing, Ichigo looked up at him and grimaced at the open curiosity he saw on the pale face across the table. Shiro was giving Grimmjow a studious once-over as he set his left elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand.

"So...wha's yer name?" he asked.

Ichigo winced at the low growl that Grimmjow emitted. "Grimmjow. Should you not concentrate on your work?"

Shiro's grin reached his ash white sideburns. "Heh, ya got somethin' against me, Grimmjow?"

"I don't like you. There's something strange about you and it makes me wary," Grimmjow stated bluntly and again Ichigo grimaced.

Fortunately, Shiro didn't take offense; instead he laughed, watery voice echoing in the too quiet kitchen. "Sure tha's wha's really botherin' ya? Sure it ain't got somethin' ta do with my buddy, King, over there?" he asked with a nod in Ichigo's direction. Panic threatened to swallow Ichigo whole as Grimmjow snarled, baring his teeth and showing impressively sharp canines. Grimmjow started to speak, but Shiro continued. "Know what I think, Grimmjow? I think yer barkin' at the wrong dog," he said quietly, his golden irises glowing as they focused like a laser scope on the blue-haired fairy.

Grimmjow frowned deeply and half-rose from his seat, Shiro doing the same and Ichigo decided now was a good time to step in. "That's enough!" he snapped, making both men turn to him, dangerous looks still in their eyes. _He didn't care, though_. "That's e-fucking-nough. Shiro, if you can't behave, I'm gonna ask you to leave."

Shiro shrugged carelessly, lowering himself back into his seat. "Tell that ta yer guard dog, King. I ain't done nothin' ta 'im."

Ichigo could feel Grimmjow bristling, even without looking at him, so he gently put his hand on the taller man's hand that was bracing the table, sculptured body poised for attack. "Calm down, Grimmjow," Ichigo said softly, finally drawing the blunet's attention.

Grimmjow was seething, barely restrained fury radiating from him like microwaves. "I will not allow him to threaten me," he said stiffly, blazing blue eyes narrowed.

"He's not threatening you, _right_ , Shirosaki?" Ichigo asked sternly, turning his gaze back to the albino.

Shiro grinned saucily and shrugged. "S'cool, King. Long as he don' bother me, I won' bother him."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and refocused on the angry man beside him. "Just ignore him."

Grimmjow stared at him. Ichigo didn't know what he was contemplating, but whatever it was, Grimmjow must have drawn a favorable conclusion because he dropped back into his seat with a short nod, the hand under Ichigo's sliding free, only to interlace with it. The blunet gave him a tiny smirk that lifted the right corner of his mouth. "For you," he said simply and it made that warm section in Ichigo's stomach flare.

Ichigo couldn't even hide the maroon that swallowed his face and neck as he turned back to Shiro, who was watching the scene unfold with an air of curious disapproval, brows furrowed and strange eyes narrowed. Ichigo didn't understand the meaning behind that look, but he wasn't about to discuss it at the moment, either.

 _Shiro and Grimmjow were a hairsbreadth away from tearing each other apart like rabid wolves and he'd rather avoid that, if at all possible_.

Shinji took that time to saunter into the kitchen from his bedroom, closely followed by a shirtless Nnoitra. It was quite obvious what they had been doing, as Shinji's face was bright red and his blond hair was askew, his only manner of dress being a rainbow pink t-shirt and pale green boxers. Nnoitra had on a pair of dark blue pajama pants, but his long, raven-colored hair looked no worse for the wear, resting over his narrow shoulders silkily.

Shinji took one look at Shiro and groaned. "Not you! Why are you always around harassing Ichi?" he snapped, stepping right up to the albino.

Shiro arched a brow and the right side of his mouth turned up in a devilish smirk. "King don' seem ta mind. 'Sides, why ya so worried 'bout it?"

"That's irrelevant. Yer annoyin'," Shinji muttered as he shuffled over to the fridge and pulled out the gallon of orange juice.

Nnoitra was still standing near Shiro, his violet eye wide and focused on him intently. That look hadn't slipped Ichigo's notice and he was just about to ask what it was about, when someone knocked on the apartment door so hard, it sounded like it was about to shatter. Scowling, he whipped his head around to stare at it, vaguely registering Shinji jumping so hard, he dropped the glass he had just retrieved from the cabinets over the sink. Luckily, it didn't break; instead, it made a loud clunking noise in the stainless steel fixture.

Nel was still seated on the couch, but her focus was no longer on Shiro; it was now fearfully attached to the apartment door. No one seemed to move or breathe for several seconds before Ichigo gave an almighty huff and rose from his chair, making his way over to the door. Grimmjow grunted his displeasure and rose to follow him, but Ichigo held up a hand and kept him at bay.

"Don't worry, it's just the door," he muttered, returning to his trek.

Once he reached the large gray portal, he swung it open and was immediately taken to the floor with an enthusiastic tackle. Wincing and groaning as the heavy body on top of him pinned him to the floor, Ichigo tried to discern who it was, already having an idea.

"ICHIGOOOOOO, MYYY SONNNNN!"

 _Yep_. _His idea had been spot on_.

Before he could curse his old man out for what he'd done, Ichigo noticed a flurry of movement and what he saw, made his breath catch and his heart skip a beat. Grimmjow had moved faster than Ichigo could see, but had been intercepted by... _Kuchiki-sensei?_ _What the hell was he doing there?_

Then, Ichigo remembered that Shiro was there and his English professor's presence made a little more sense. Speaking of the sneaky albino, Ichigo tilted his head back and peered through his bangs into the kitchen. Shinji stood by the sink, wide mouth hanging open and face slack with shock as he stared at Shiro pinning an agitated Nnoitra to the wall, Nnoitra's skinny arms held painfully together behind his back. Shiro had his eyes on Grimmjow and Kuchi – _oh, to hell with it_ – Byakuya, while Byakuya had a strong arm flush across Grimmjow's chest, keeping him from moving.

Things didn't really make sense, but what Ichigo drew from the scene was this: Grimmjow had obviously been upset at seeing Ichigo being attacked by his idiot old man, not knowing who he was and had come to interfere. Somehow, Byakuya – who must have come to fetch his albino – ended up blocking his way, probably trying to keep the peace. That must have pissed off Nnoitra, who had to have tried to go to Grimmjow's aid, but for some reason had been detained and incapacitated by Shiro.

 _What a mess_.

Ichigo returned his attention to his old man and growled through clenched teeth, "This is all your fault, baka."

Isshin had the decency to laugh and rub the back of his neck, but before he did, Ichigo had noticed the serious glint in those onyx eyes, while the older man had been studying Grimmjow rather carefully. It made him arch his brows and wonder what the fuck was going on.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo, my son! Papa didn't mean to cause a ruckus!" his old man responded, louder than the average human being.

Ichigo pushed against his father's chest, grumbling nonsense the entire time as he glared at the dark-haired man he unwillingly called his sire. "What're you doin' here anyway? It's not a holiday."

Isshin pouted as he climbed to his feet and held his hand out to assist Ichigo up. Wrinkling his nose, he replied, "Don't be that way, Ichigo, my son! Papa can visit anytime he-"

"Stop! Stop, stop, stop!" Ichigo snapped, tired of the idiocy. "Could you just get to the point already? I know there's a specific reason you showed up here. You never make spontaneous visits and especially not without Yuzu and Karin. Where are they, by the way? You didn't leave them home alone, did you?" Ichigo accused, eyes narrowing at his old man at the thought of his two younger sisters home alone without supervision.

"Don't be absurd! Papa would never do such a thing. Tatsuki-chan from next door is keeping an eye on them."

"OK, so why are you here? And don't try to feed me anymore crap."

Isshin huffed and folded his thick arms across his broad chest as he did his best to "glare" at Ichigo. It never really worked. "Well, Kisuke-san told me you had guests and your Papa wanted to meet them."

Ichigo quirked his lips and stared his old man down, contemplating whether that was the truth or not. Satisfied with the honest gleam in the dark-haired man's eyes, he nodded and grabbed the offered hand, raising himself to his feet. Brushing off his pajama pants and t-shirt, he turned to Byakuya and Grimmjow, the latter man still fuming, brilliant blue eyes glimmering dangerously, even as he glanced in confusion back and forth between Ichigo and his father.

"It's OK, Grimmjow. This is just my father; he's always like this," Ichigo stated, trying to soothe the blue-haired man.

Grimmjow's shoulders relaxed and his tense muscles loosened, making Byakuya lower his arm and back away from him, going to stand near the apartment door. Shiro slowly released Nnoitra, who turned and glared down at him expertly, his upper lip curled back with fury. Shiro merely arched a brow and shifted his weight to his left side carelessly. Shinji still hadn't moved from his spot beside the sink, his mouth still hanging open and eyes still nearly bugging out of his head.

Ichigo sighed. _This was entirely too strange_.

"Grimmjow, did you say?" Isshin asked curiously, his dark head tilted to the side as he rubbed a hand through his scruffy beard.

Grimmjow speared him with a suspicious glance, but nodded. "Yes," he answered.

Ichigo almost shivered at that deep voice. He didn't think it would ever stop affecting him erotically. As if picking up on his suppressed reaction, Grimmjow's eyes landed on him and softened exponentially as he smiled just the tiniest bit. Ichigo wanted to melt into the floor, but maintained his composure, lest his old man notice something. Isshin knew about Ichigo's sexual preference, but Ichigo just wasn't prepared for an interrogation at the moment, which would surely occur if Isshin even got a hint at what was transpiring between his son and the blue-haired fairy.

 _Holy shit_.

_Did his old man know about fae, too?_

It would make sense, considering Urahara was his best friend and they'd known each other for years. _Or had Urahara kept his old man in the dark about his secret as well?_

Ichigo just didn't know. He was kind of afraid to ask, though, in case Isshin didn't know about them and Urahara wanted to keep it a secret. _Thankfully, Grimmjow, Nel and Nnoitra had their ears concealed because that would make his keeping quiet about things a moot gesture_.

"What the hell just happened?" Shinji squeaked from the kitchen, making all eyes turn to him in surprise.

It was possible most of the occupants of the apartment had forgotten he was even there. Ichigo rolled his eyes and headed back towards the kitchen and his baffled best friend.

 _Leave it to Shinji to swing at the ball AFTER it went over his head_.

XOXOXO

Aizen sat perched on his throne, agitation emanating him from him like bad body odor. His servants gave him a wide berth, most even clearing the spacious room for fear of landing on his bad side and doing something that would forfeit their meager existences. The stark white room seemed to bleed a black aura down the walls as Aizen grew more and more impatient.

Szayel had come to him that morning and told him that La Garganta would be ready by the evening. _It was past sunset and the sorcerer had yet to show his face with news of his progress and success_. Aizen grunted as he rested his chin in his hand. Failure for the pink-haired sorcerer was unacceptable and if Szayel didn't show up soon, Aizen would search him out and kill him for wasting his time.

The throne room's doors slowly swung open and Tousen entered the room, his stride swift and purposeful. Once he was at the foot of the statuesque, immaculate white throne, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head, waiting for permission to proceed.

"Yes, Tousen?" Aizen asked quietly, the calm before the storm.

Tousen raised his head, but remained on one knee. "Szayel says the reiatsu was harder to trace than he'd initially anticipated and will require a few more hours to have La Garganta prepared for you, Aizen, Sir."

Aizen clenched his teeth, but allowed his face to remain impassive. _Fucking sorcerer_. "Why did he not come to me himself?" he inquired, his voice relaying his deadly mood.

Tousen paused briefly, but continued. "He wishes to be undisturbed in order to finish in a more timely fashion."

Aizen swallowed his anger as he deliberated over Tousen's last statement. While he considered the sorcerer an arrogant pain in the ass, the man had a point. Aizen had to admit, he would have been upset had the sorcerer come to tell him the news himself, wondering why he wasn't still on site handling the situation. He smiled.

 _Soon_.

 _Very soon the blue-haired fairy prince would be his and he could be rid of that annoying sorcerer_.

"Fine. Inform Szayel that he is expected well before sunrise, Tousen, or his life will be irrelevant."

Tousen nodded and bowed his head again. Aizen waved him off and watched as Tousen stalked out of the throne room, his back stiff and gait militant. Cold smile still in place, Aizen steepled his fingers before his face.

 _World domination would soon be his_.

XOXOXO

Toshiro stood in front of the apartment building he'd seen the fairy prince, Grimmjow, enter the night before with an injured orange-haired boy. He clutched his grandfather's book to his chest and wondered just how he was to accomplish this task he'd been given by his mother. She hadn't really given him any tips or advice and Toshiro was sure the ones he'd been sent to warn would look at him like he had lost all of his marbles.

Not only that, but he had no clue what apartment Grimmjow was in and he certainly wasn't about to knock on every door, asking if he lived there. He would be arrested before morning. Toshiro sighed, a dull headache forming at his temples.

 _What a nightmare this was_.

He had a black, knit cap tugged down over his ears – even though the weather was exceptionally warm – because his mother hadn't bothered to conceal his ears again before she'd disappeared to wherever she had come from. They were pointed and so very obvious, so he'd had no other choice but to hide them before he'd left home.

Thinking of his mother made his gut stir restlessly. He was still having a hard time dealing with the fact that his entire family was made up of the mythical creatures his grandfather had adored. It made sense now, though, why exactly his grandfather had obsessed over the fae.

 _He had been one_.

Not to mention, Toshiro's father was still out there somewhere, from what he'd deduced from his mother's parting words. He still had a part of his family living and he was hell bent on finding the man, but first...

 _He had to warn the prince and his comrades that they were in danger_.

 _Now, if he only knew HOW_...

A sudden commotion at the entrance had him ducking around the side of the building and peering around the corner. A tall, raven-haired man emerged first, stepping through the glass double doors, his demeanor stoic and reserved. He was followed by another tall, dark-haired man, but this man's hair was shorter and he sported a beard. _He looked hauntingly familiar_. Last to appear was a shorter man, who was ghostly pale and had the strangest eyes Toshiro had ever seen.

"Wasn' mah fuckin' fault, Byakuya!" the pale man snapped irritably, running a hand through his short and spiky ash white hair, his voice an odd warble.

The stoic man glanced over his shoulder and sniffed haughtily. "You handled the situation poorly, Shirosaki. Take responsibility for once in your life," he said, his voice deep and monotone.

The bearded man chuckled and put an arm around the pale man's shoulders. "It's OK, Shiro-kun. Ichigo still doesn't know the truth and that's all that really matters."

"Whatever," the pale man mumbled sullenly as they approached the curb.

They all piled into a black sedan, the stoic man climbing into the driver's seat and pulling away carefully, then driving down to the corner, leaving the street in silence once more. Toshiro waited until the sleek car disappeared around the corner before stepping out of his hiding spot. He wondered who those men were and what they had been talking about. _Especially the pale one_. He'd never seen a man so strange and eerie-looking. Again, Toshiro stood before the building, staring up at it helplessly.

_How the hell was he supposed to find Grimmjow?_

XOXOXO

Grimmjow stood in the "shower" letting the hot water spray over him and loosen the tension in his body. That evening had been trying for many reasons, but one standing out more prominently than the others. This Shiro person that Ichigo had been helping with a "school assignment", whatever that was. Grimmjow assumed it was some type of work that needed to be done for the place Ichigo attended everyday.

 _Luckily, tomorrow wasn't one of those days_.

Ichigo had been able to stay home all day that day and would be able to do the same tomorrow. Grimmjow was eagerly looking forward to it and hopefully, there would be no more interruptions from anymore of Ichigo's friends, or "classmates", or family. More specifically, the albino, who gave Grimmjow the impression of being more than what he portrayed, and the older man, who happened to be Ichigo's father. The man had attacked his own son, knocking him to the floor as if he hadn't even known him. Grimmjow remembered the fear and boiling anger that had quickly spurred him into trying to reach Ichigo, but then, there was the dark-haired man that had kept Grimmjow from reaching his destination. He had been uncommonly strong and it made Grimmjow shudder to recall just how easily he had been held back. There was something wrong with all three of those men, but he wasn't willing to try and figure it out at the moment; right now, all he could think about was spending more time with Ichigo, without the distraction of anyone else.

He sighed, knowing he was being particularly selfish, but he couldn't bring himself to care very much. He was beginning to realize that what he felt for Ichigo went beyond infatuation and like. _He really had feelings for the orange-haired boy_. Maybe it was because he was a virgin and had never had any previous experiences with relationships, but whatever the case, the feelings were there and looked to be staying for quite a while.

Grimmjow rubbed a hand over his face wearily. As tired as his body was, he felt restless and wired for some reason. Perhaps it was anticipation of the fact that he had Ichigo all to himself for the night. Grimmjow grinned and rinsed himself thoroughly before shutting off the water. _He couldn't wait to kiss Ichigo again, to feel those satiny lips against his and feel that slick, hot tongue invading his mouth again_. He eagerly grabbed a towel and after scrubbing it over his body a few times, he wrapped it around his waist and grabbed another for his hair.

He'd already brushed his teeth, so he left the bathroom, ruffling the towel on his head through his soaked hair, making it stand on end. The sitting room was eerily quiet as he made his way to Ichigo's room. Grimmjow gave the couch a cursory glance and was surprised to see it empty.

_Where was his little sister? Was she with Kisuke?_

Frowning a bit, he stepped into Ichigo's room, closing the door behind him, all silent except for the soft snoring coming from the orange-haired man on the bed. His shoulders sagged with disappointment as he watched the rhythmic rising and falling of Ichigo's back as he slept on his stomach. Trudging to the other man's side of the bed, where his arm hung over the edge, Grimmjow carefully sat beside him and watched him. Ichigo's face was peaceful and scowl-free in his slumber; he really was beautiful. Although he was disappointed that Ichigo had fallen asleep, Grimmjow was still able to appreciate his company...alone. He ran a hand through Ichigo's feathery hair, brushing aside orange bangs as he smiled, his chest filling with something he was unable to recognize.

Sighing, he started to rise, when a hand clamped around his wrist. He turned astonished blue eyes back to Ichigo, his breath leaving him helpless as he was frozen in place by a drowsy, sable-brown gaze. "I didn't mean to wake you," he rushed to explain.

Ichigo grinned crookedly as he twisted his upper body around to face Grimmjow more, pulling him back onto the bed as he did so. "You didn't," he murmured and the hairs all over Grimmjow's body lifted. "What were you doin' in the shower that took you so long?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Thinking, I suppose. Your father is very strange, Ichigo, and I don't like that Shiro person."

"Heh, no shit," Ichigo chuckled softly. Grimmjow frowned, but Ichigo brought a hand to his brow and smoothed away the crease. "Hey, don't do that. Frowns don't suit you."

His face was hot and he knew that he was blushing like a shy little girl, but Ichigo had a tendency to do that to him. _His words were never dramatic or overly done, but always to the point and truthful_. Grimmjow loved that about the orange-haired young man.

Feeling uncharacteristically bold, he pressed a hand to Ichigo's chest and leaned forward, capturing those soft lips with his own. Ichigo eased himself into a sitting position and gently cupped the back of his neck, sighing as he scooted closer and opened his mouth, his tongue peeking from behind his teeth. Grimmjow immediately opened his mouth, in turn, and allowed his tongue to tease the tip of Ichigo's playfully and slowly.

Ichigo grinned into the kiss, running his free hand up and down Grimmjow's arm, only to move it and have it settle on his towel clad hip. Suddenly realizing his state of dress – or rather _undress_ – Grimmjow pulled back and bit his bottom lip, almost afraid to meet Ichigo's curious gaze as he averted his eyes. Grimmjow knew what he wanted, knew what he'd wanted ever since laying eyes on Ichigo, but he was too embarrassed to put it into words, which was completely abnormal for him.

 _He never had a problem voicing his wants and opinions_.

Ichigo rubbed the pad of his thumb against the nape of Grimmjow's neck, sending furry little bunnies skipping over his skin and making a pool of heat resonate in his gut. "What's wrong, Grimmjow?" Ichigo asked quietly.

Grimmjow lifted his head and gave Ichigo a level stare. _He wouldn't start now_. _He wouldn't cower from what he felt in the very core of his soul_. "Teach me," he said.

"Teach you what?" Ichigo asked with a cute, confused frown.

Grimmjow stood and leisurely let the towel around his waist slide to the floor, revealing his nakedness and semi-aroused state. Ichigo's eyes went incredibly wide and his face ignited as his eyes lowered and stuck to Grimmjow's genitals like fluff to velcro. There was a long pause before Ichigo was finally able to tear his eyes away from Grimmjow's lower region and lift his gaze to meet intense blue.

Grimmjow shifted and rubbed his hands together nervously, his stomach churning like a pepper mill. "Teach me," he stopped, swallowing thickly and licking his lips before continuing, making sure to hold Ichigo's stunned bronze-colored stare. "Teach me how to make love to you, Ichigo," he finished.

Silence.

Ichigo did nothing but gawk at him for several long seconds that seemed more like minutes to Grimmjow, making him nervous and insecure as he started to second-guess his decision. Just as he was about to bend and retrieve his towel from the floor, the bed squeaked and Ichigo was standing in front of him. Grimmjow didn't want to look the shorter man in the face, but knew if he wanted to have some idea of what Ichigo was thinking, he would have to.

After trying to avoid the inevitable for a while longer, Grimmjow gave his attention to the orange-haired man, his heart racing and head going light. Ichigo held his gaze, warm brown eyes sharp and completely overwhelming. "Say it again, Grimmjow," he quietly prodded.

Grimmjow tensed uncertainly, but did as he was told. "Teach me how to make love to you," he repeated.

Air gusted from Ichigo like a tire that had been flattened before the smaller man suddenly had his arms wrapped around Grimmjow's waist and their bodies so close together, thread wouldn't even have a comfortable fit between them. Grimmjow loved the way Ichigo's skin was so feverish and soft, but his muscles were so firm and solid.

"I was hoping that's what you said," he murmured before lifting his face and presenting his lips for a kiss. Grimmjow obliged without hesitation, his entire being lighting up and flaring with anticipation at the thought of what he hoped was about to occur. After a small peck, Ichigo pulled back. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side and scoffed. "Ichigo, I wouldn't have said so if I wasn't completely sure."

"Good." Ichigo said, nodding shortly before bringing their lips together again, this time taking care to search out every nook and cranny inside Grimmjow's mouth.

Grimmjow groaned into the kiss and lifted Ichigo's arms from around his waist, settling them around his neck instead. Then, he wrapped Ichigo in a tight embrace, his arms like ivy twined around the smaller man as he deepened the kiss and asserted dominance over it. He forced Ichigo's tongue back into his mouth and followed it with his own, searching out the other man's heated orifice and drawing a surprised moan from him.

Grimmjow backed Ichigo towards the bed, not really sure of what he was doing, but knowing he wanted to feel more of him. _He wanted to run his hands over every inch of that tanned skin, wanted to taste him and kiss him everywhere_. Grimmjow just wanted _him_.

Ichigo's legs hit the edge of the bed and they tumbled onto it, Grimmjow trying to break their fall so he wouldn't crush the orange-haired man. Their lips had come apart during the fall, but Ichigo drove his hands into Grimmjow's hair and brought them back together, moaning urgently as he wrapped long legs around Grimmjow's waist. His breath caught in his throat at the utterly erotic sensation of having Ichigo's lower half pressed against his naked groin, the fabric of Ichigo's underwear rubbing him into a full erection.

 _So hot_.

 _God, he was burning up from the inside, his blood feeling like scorching rivers of lava_.

When Ichigo traced an errant hand down his side and dipped his hand between their bodies to wrap long fingers around his arousal, Grimmjow couldn't keep a loud moan from erupting from the depths of his chest. He buried his face in the crook of Ichigo's neck, embarrassed.

Ichigo chuckled softly and tilted his head to the side. "That's normal, you know," he said gently, voice amused.

Grimmjow lifted his face from its hiding space and gave Ichigo a wary glance, but before he could say anything, Ichigo squeezed his length and all of his insides melted and converged in his loins. "Ah," he yelped quietly.

 _He'd never felt anything so good before; doing the job himself felt nothing like having another person doing it for you_. Grimmjow tried to catch his runaway breath, but Ichigo kept stealing it, this time by turning his head and kissing him deeply as he ran his thumb over the head of Grimmjow's member, teasing the slit and spreading the fluid gathered there.

Grimmjow shivered, unsure of what he should do. All of his being was crying out for more, more, MORE. His breath shuddered from his body through his nose as he kissed Ichigo with all the passion he possessed. _Now, he understood why men were so easily thwarted by the promise of sex_. _If sex was anything like Ichigo's slightly roughened hand on his rigid length, then he could totally empathize with those men_.

Ichigo pulled back from the kiss, his furnace-like eyes half-lidded and smoldering. "Lay on your back, Grimmjow," he mumbled, the vibration of his deep voice sending sparks shooting along the tips of Grimmjow's nerve endings.

His movements were sluggish and lethargic as he rolled first to his side and then, flopped over onto his back, where he stared at Ichigo taking his time in sitting up at the edge of the bed. Grimmjow was anxious and twitching with anticipation as he watched Ichigo discard his underwear, revealing slim, angular hips and an extremely stiff arousal. Grimmjow felt his eyes go wide as he shamelessly stared at Ichigo's nakedness.

He'd never seen another man naked before... _not live and in person, at least_.

 _Ichigo was stunning_.

Ichigo turned to face him with a mischievous smirk, then languidly crawled over him, pressing their lips together, retreating and coming back for more, teasing Grimmjow and frustrating him, making him impatient to be touched again. Ichigo gave him a smile that melted his bones and turned his flesh to pudding as he pulled back and studied his face.

"What?" he grunted, uncomfortable with Ichigo's sudden staring.

"I'm just looking."

"Why? It's strange."

Ichigo laughed and his copper eyes gleamed. "It's strange to look at someone you like?"

Grimmjow shrugged, his face burning. _Feeling so unsure of himself was starting to piss him off_. _He was behaving so_... _wrongly and he hated showing this side of himself to Ichigo_. Plastering a shit-eating grin on his face, he bravely looked Ichigo in the face. "Then look all you like," he suggested.

Ichigo arched a fine orange brow as his head listed to the side. "I plan to."

With that, he dipped his head and trailed fluttering butterfly kisses along Grimmjow's jaw until he reached the side of his neck, where his hot tongue left a wet line along the tendon and settled in the hollow below his Adam's apple. A sigh slipped past Grimmjow's lips as Ichigo continued his exploratory trek over his collarbone and down between his pectorals, licking enticingly under the slight swell of the right chest muscle. Ichigo glanced up at him with a sly smirk before his lips descended over and engulfed the nipple, making Grimmjow's back arch off the bed some as his breath choked to a stop in his throat.

He stared up at the ceiling, his insides wriggling about at the odd, but radically fervid sensation. He could actually FEEL his blood rushing and filling his erection as Ichigo gently tugged and sucked. Grimmjow tangled his fingers in the sheet of the bed, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back and enjoyed what Ichigo was doing to him.

Aside from a slight jerk, he made no move when Ichigo switched nipples. He was actually afraid to, thinking that if he did, Ichigo would stop. That thought was made void when Ichigo stopped anyway, his wicked lips and tongue traversing the indentations of his abdomen. Ichigo's touch was so light and feathery, it was beginning to tickle, making Grimmjow's mid-section tense and relax sporadically.

He refused to have a ticklish reaction while Ichigo was in the process of mapping his body like a navigator. Instead, he held his breath as Ichigo left slick trails across his abdomen and made his way – agonizingly slowly – down his pelvis. He shifted his hips, his sensory nerves standing on end with anticipation.

Ichigo was getting dangerously close to his lower region, the tickling sensation all but gone now. All too abruptly, Ichigo had a hand firmly wrapped around the base of his erection and before he could even react to that, Ichigo's fiery tongue swept over the head quickly, then engulfed it. Exhaling loudly, Grimmjow threw his head back against a pillow and tried to catch his breath.

Intense didn't even begin to describe what he was currently feeling. Liquid heat pooled in his gut and swept through his veins. Grimmjow buried a shaking hand in Ichigo's bright orange hair almost desperately, unsure of what he should be doing at the moment – _aside from babbling like an idiot_.

Ichigo hummed and palmed Grimmjow's testicles as his mouth sank further and further over his length. He started bobbing his head, sucking gently, yet firmly, his saliva making the gliding of his lips effortless.

 _It was a crime, punishable by death, surely_.

Grimmjow couldn't find his mind and his mouth insisted on making the most mortifying noises he'd ever heard. _This was so unfair_. _Ichigo was unraveling him like a spool of thread with just his mouth_. The hand that had been massaging his testicles, moved up and over his chest, mapping his abdomen and caressing his right pectoral before capturing the nipple between deft fingers.

Grimmjow clenched his teeth, his body shivering and blood boiling as his breathing quickened. "Oh, god," he whispered frantically, feeling perilously close to the edge of release as his fingers further dug into the bedsheets.

 _He didn't want to embarrass himself and orgasm before they even really got started_.

Ichigo must have sensed this and lifted his head, his hand still stroking Grimmjow's member. "You can come, Grimmjow; the second one's always better anyway," he murmured, nuzzling Grimmjow's trembling inner thigh with his nose and moist lips.

Panting shamefully, Grimmjow glanced down at Ichigo with cloudy blue eyes. "I-is that OK?"

"Yeah," Ichigo answered with a warm grin.

Grimmjow rested his head against the pillow again and exhaled deeply.

 _He'd been so worried_.

Ichigo covered his arousal with that torturous mouth of his again and started a maddening pace, pulling and sucking, making Grimmjow's toes gradually curl. The hand in Ichigo's hair tightened as his eyes squinted and watered. God, he was about to "come", as Ichigo put it. His abdomen tensed and relaxed in fitful intervals, his armpits tingling. Ichigo lowered his mouth to his pubic hair during one particularly hard suck and it undid him.

White stars exploded before his eyes; his hips left the bed and his feet dug into it as his grip in Ichigo's hair became deathly. A strangled moan dragged its way out of him, so loud, it scared him. Ichigo held his hips down to the bed and continued draining him as his erection pulsed repeatedly. That was the only way Grimmjow could describe the way Ichigo was sucking his length while he climaxed. _Like the orange-haired young man wanted to devour every drop that left him_.

Relaxing finally, his body melting and tension loosening from his lower back, abdomen and thighs, Grimmjow released a loud whoosh of air and tried to calm his heart rate. Color seeped back into his vision as his chest heaved. Ichigo released his now softening arousal, licked it one last time and moved up his body to hover over him. Grimmjow stared into molten brown eyes, knowing his own blue ones were wide.

"How was that?" Ichigo asked, toying with Grimmjow's left nipple.

Grimmjow gave him an incredulous glance. "Are you kidding?"

"Guess that's my answer," Ichigo laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Grimmjow didn't think he could feel anything after an orgasm that intense and powerful, but just the touch of Ichigo's lips was enough to stir something in the pit of his belly, not to mention his heart. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around Ichigo's neck, emotions clanging together like a bell. He pressed their torsos together, trying to fit himself as close as possible to the orange-haired man. Things were getting way more complicated and Grimmjow hadn't even known he was in danger, until he'd been swept away.

There was no mistaking what was going on in his chest at the moment, no mistaking what that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach was and definitely no mistaking the racing of his heart. He deepened the kiss with an almost desperate urgency, clinging to the shorter man like his life depended on it.

Ichigo must have noticed the change in his behavior because he slowly eased out of the kiss to carefully study Grimmjow's face. Grimmjow swallowed, embarrassed to find that his discovery of such feelings had him on the verge of making shameful eye water. His bottom lip trembled slightly and even though he tried to hide it, he knew Ichigo had seen it.

"What's wrong? You don't wanna do it anymore? If not, that's fine, Grimm, you don-"

"Ichigo...I'm fine," Grimmjow grunted, interrupting the worried rambling. "Just...I'm just a little...overwhelmed right now."

Ichigo frowned, but nodded, his orange brows still creased with concern. Grimmjow couldn't tell him the reason he was all flustered and out of order was because he was realizing that he loved him. _There was no other explanation for his feelings_.

He hadn't even known the boy that long, but somehow, Ichigo had managed to do what no other had accomplished; he'd successfully stolen Grimmjow's heart.

Swallowing forcefully again, Grimmjow ran his hands up and down the shorter man's back. "Kiss me," he said.

Ichigo grinned and lowered his lips without hesitation, brown eyes sparkling with amusement. Their tongues carelessly twined and interlaced, their bodies moving and grinding together as their sighs and moans mingled in the silence of the bedroom.

It seemed like no time had passed before Grimmjow felt himself straining against Ichigo's pelvic bone. "You can touch me too," Ichigo pulled back and whispered.

Grimmjow gave him a startled glance before he reached between their bodies and tentatively wrapped his fingers around Ichigo's unbending length. Eyebrows in his hairline, he marveled at the weight of it and the softness of the skin encasing the steel-like flesh beneath it. He gently stroked it, that satiny skin moving back and forth fluidly.

"Shit," Ichigo cursed lowly, his expressive eyes rolling shut as he turned his body to the side a fraction, allowing Grimmjow better access.

Grimmjow acknowledged the encouragement by stroking faster and harder, savoring the sight of Ichigo thrusting his hips in time to the movements and full lips parted in pleasure. Grimmjow tenderly kissed Ichigo's cheek, making those warm brown eyes fly open and spear him with a smoldering stare. In turn, Ichigo lifted his left hand and cupped the side of Grimmjow's face, never breaking eye contact as he softly pecked his lips repeatedly.

Grimmjow grinned and started to push Ichigo back onto the bed, but was intercepted when Ichigo gently gripped the wrist attached to the hand that was stroking him and pulled it away from his erection. Grimmjow grunted in opposition and confusion, his blue eyes finding and holding confident brown. He wanted to know what was going on all of a sudden.

_Had he done something wrong?_

Ichigo didn't say a word, instead, all he did was reach over to his nightstand and pull open the bottom drawer, sticking his hand inside and rooting around in it afterward. Grimmjow noticed him holding a small, black bottle as he closed the drawer and resumed his place hovering over him, but this time, straddling his waist.

Grimmjow held his breath as their groins connected, hot skin against even hotter skin. Ichigo licked his lips and looked down into his eyes. "I'm going to make things easier for us," he said quietly, further confusing Grimmjow.

"How?"

Again, Ichigo didn't say anything; he just popped the top to the black bottle he held and poured some of the clear fluid it contained onto his fingertips. Closing the lid, he rested the bottle on the bed beside them and reached around himself, Grimmjow craning his neck to see just what the orange-haired man was doing.

Ichigo gasped softly and closed his eyes, the sight so entrancing, Grimmjow forgot what he was supposed to be doing as he watched the other man avidly. Ichigo groaned under his breath and his breathing became erratic. A minute passed and Grimmjow couldn't bear the suspense any longer. "Ichigo, what are you doing?"

Ichigo's sienna eyes fluttered open and he smiled down at Grimmjow. Wordlessly, he took Grimmjow's hand and led it to his rear, making Grimmjow blush when he realized what Ichigo was doing. Ichigo had two fingers inside himself and was in the process of sliding them in and out. "Wh-why are you...?" Grimmjow asked breathlessly, his heart hammering.

"It's so we can...so we can – ah!"

Grimmjow disregarded his question and enjoyed watching Ichigo pleasuring himself. It was so arousing and so exciting and Grimmjow just wanted to be a part of it. He lifted his torso and leaned forward, pressing kisses to Ichigo's chest and slender neck, hoping to gain his attention.

 _It worked_.

Ichigo removed his fingers and picked up the bottle again, this time catching Grimmjow off guard when his own member was covered with the clear substance. _It was cold!_ He jumped and glared at the orange-haired man, making Ichigo chuckle noiselessly.

"It'll feel better in a second," he murmured, shifting his hips.

Grimmjow frowned momentarily, not completely grasping what Ichigo was saying, until heat and tightness enveloped him, shooing away the coldness. His mouth fell open and all he could do was stare up at Ichigo in awe as Ichigo eased himself down, settling them together for a perfect fit. Ichigo rolled his hips slightly, groaning deeply and making Grimmjow reach up to grip those slim hips in order to keep himself together.

 _He was having sex_.

 _He was making love to the one person he cared about, aside from his best friend and little sister_.

 _And it was fucking amazing_.

Ichigo lifted his hips, causing a pulling sensation that made Grimmjow hold his breath and close his eyes. Then, Ichigo came back down much faster and harder than the first time and it knocked the air from Grimmjow's lungs. He couldn't think past the tight heat surrounding him, rubbing and caressing him into a frenzy.

 _It was so good_.

Ichigo braced his hands on Grimmjow's shoulders and moaned as he started rising and falling rhythmically, the bed protesting with agitated squeaks and the headboard banging against the wall. Grimmjow's hands tightened on Ichigo's hips as the younger man's pace sped up and grew more forceful. He found himself groaning deeply as his length was swallowed by Ichigo's insides again and again.

"Fuck," he whispered, his hands sliding up and down Ichigo's sides.

Ichigo leaned over, never breaking his pace and kissed Grimmjow thoroughly, their tongues clumsy and teeth unforgiving. "T-touch me. Please," Ichigo whimpered between lifts and falls.

Grimmjow didn't understand. _He thought he was already touching him_. "What do you mean?" he ground through clenched teeth.

Ichigo pressed down against him and rolled his hips, the movement making Grimmjow grit his teeth harder and suppress an embarrassing moan. Ichigo impatiently took Grimmjow's hand and placed it on his bobbing arousal, the veins prominent and thick. _It finally sunk in_.

Grimmjow wrapped his hand around the other man's length, stroking it and Ichigo threw his head back and gave a loud, wanton moan. Grimmjow bit his bottom lip and started thrusting his hips along with Ichigo's movements, making their skin come together noisily.

Fire swiped at him and embraced his erection. _He'd never felt so incredible and erotic in his life_. Grimmjow threw his own head back against the pillow, his mouth falling open as he panted and moved, stroked and gripped. He wanted to see Ichigo "come", but he was so close himself, he didn't know if he'd be able to catch it.

Ichigo moved faster and Grimmjow followed with his hand and hips. "Gr-Grimm-jow...so good. Kami, it's so good," Ichigo moaned rabidly.

Grimmjow groaned in response, agreeing completely as he watched his orange-haired lover in the throes of passion, his neck straining and that bright hair damp from sweat. His brown eyes were darkened with lust and his face was flushed a pretty rose hue.

 _He was so fucking beautiful_.

"Ichigo...nghn...Ichigo..." Grimmjow chanted, meaning to say something else, but that was all that had come out.

Ichigo gripped his shoulders, turning the pace frantic and urgent. Grimmjow didn't think he could last any longer as they moved together, hard, fast and slick. Then, Ichigo's back arched, his muscles tensed and before Grimmjow knew it, Ichigo was spilling himself over his hand and belly, a loud moan erupting in the bedroom. Grimmjow's orgasm was forced from him as Ichigo's insides tightened dramatically.

"SH-SHIT!" Grimmjow gasped. "OH!"

His body melted again, but this time it was slower and more intense, cresting like a lazy wave. Ichigo collapsed onto his chest, breathing harsh and brow sweaty as Grimmjow absently wrapped his arms around him. His own breathing was depleted, but he felt wonderful. He wanted to sing from a mountain that he was no longer a fucking virgin.

 _And that he was in love_.

Ichigo tucked his face into Grimmjow's neck and stretched his body, Grimmjow's softening length sliding out of him in the process. Ichigo was boneless and probably exhausted, so Grimmjow rolled them to their sides, uncaring that Ichigo had gotten his essence on him. He kissed the shorter man's damp forehead and sighed.

 _He felt delirious_. _Giddy_. _Lazy_. _Tired_. _Sleepy_. _But most of all, he just felt happy_.

Ichigo's breathing evened out quickly enough and Grimmjow was satisfied to follow him into slumber.

 _He had something to tell Ichigo in the morning_.


	11. Out of Time

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Gin ran a hand through his hair and absently muttered to himself as he studied a scroll containing a new spell he'd been working on. It was meant to give the recipient extraordinary healing abilities, but so far, it only lasted for a minute at a time. Gin sighed disgustedly, frustrated that he was getting nowhere, and he knew exactly why he was unable to focus. He glanced over his shoulder at the beautiful, green-haired, Elorian princess, noting that she was hovering just behind him, her big, wheat-gray eyes wide with childish wonder.

"Did you need something, Princess?" he asked, trying to hide the exasperation in his voice.

 _It didn't quite work_.

The princess blushed and toyed with her fingers, none the wiser to Gin's annoyance. "N-no, not really. I was just curious. I've never met a sorcerer before," she whispered, voice small and... _disturbingly cute_.

Gin grimaced and turned back to the scroll. He didn't wish to be rude and shoo her away, but her presence was alarmingly distracting. The unmistakable warmth of a too-close body singed his back through his robes, making him whip his head around to see what the girl was up to. She had inched closer to him, her abundant breasts dangerously near to molesting his shoulder. Swallowing, Gin rubbed his chin as he resumed perusing the scroll and did his best to ignore the girl, but, sadly, it proved fruitless.

Gin swiveled around in the chair, his movement rather abrupt. He'd only meant to face her fully, but instead, his swift action made her topple over into his lap, her soft curves pressing firmly against him. He inhaled sharply, refusing to move an inch, for fear of doing the wrong thing and touching the wrong place on her younger body. The princess gasped and covered her mouth in surprise, too astonished to leave her spot. Gin really tried to keep his mind from flinging itself into the gutter, but, well, he _was_ a male and the princess was _very much_ a female.

She fit into his arms and lap like she was created specifically for that purpose and when she gazed up at him, large, breathtaking eyes wide and shining, he had to force himself not to close the miniscule space between their faces and sample her lips with his own. She smelled like something sweet and airy and it was altogether driving him insane. He wanted to drive his thin fingers through that mass of silken-looking, green hair as he did things he was sure no other man had done to her. Her cheeks flared, turning them a charming pink as she stared up at him, her face unconsciously inching closer and closer to his. Gin gripped the arms of the chair he was seated in and slit his eyes open, making the princess emit a soft sound of revelation.

Gin knew that he had strange eyes that seemed to change color with his mood. He didn't know if it came from the abundance of magic flowing through his veins, or just an inheritance of genes. Normally, they were an icy, crystal blue, while during times of anger or annoyance, they turned a deep, scarlet hue. It was precisely why he kept them squinted shut most of the time. He never wanted his emotions to be readable in the face of an enemy or stranger, which was why he'd learned at an early age to hide them, and now, the princess was studying his eyes like she'd just discovered a new species.

"Oh my," an amused tenor sounded from the doorway of the small room they were ensconced within.

Gin almost shoved the poor princess from his lap at the sound of his uncle's voice. As it were, she scrambled from her perch like Gin was on fire, drawing a chuckle from his blond uncle. "Uncle," Gin stated, trying his hardest not to sound as if he'd just been caught stealing.

Kisuke alternated his gaze between Gin and the princess, dark eyes hidden beneath a green and white hat, and behind a paper fan. "I came to ask if you needed something to drink or eat. You've been in here for hours; it's three in the morning," he replied.

Gin shook his head in the negative automatically, then thought better of it as his throat stuck together, parched. "I'll have some water, actually."

The princess began edging her way towards the door, but Kisuke stopped her with a glance. "Nel, you don't have to leave on my account! Stay! I insist," he said in a rush before sweeping from the room and closing the door behind himself.

Gin rubbed a hand over his eyes, wondering just what his uncle was thinking. _On second thought, he already knew_. The scene Kisuke had walked in on had been incredibly incriminating and if he'd been his uncle, he would be thinking the same thing: that there was definitely something occurring between himself and the princess. He didn't want to assume anything, but the way the princess had been staring at him gave him the impression that she was, at the very least, somewhat interested in him.

He grinned wolfishly.

 _She was one year away from officially being accepted into womanhood_.

 _He supposed he could wait until then_ , he thought with one last glance at the green-haired princess, who was watching him with a fierce blush.

XOXOXO

_Someone was knocking on the door_.

Grimmjow rolled over just enough to peer over his shoulder and glare at the door. His keen senses kicked in and he could smell Nnoitra's unique scent coming from the other side. Grumbling under his breath, he wondered what his tall, best friend could possibly want during the time that everyone usually slept.

Grimmjow slowly registered the warmth in his arms and smiled broadly when he turned his eyes to the orange-haired man sleeping beside him. He dipped his head and nuzzled Ichigo's temple, savoring the feel of his satiny, spiky hair, and their mingled scents. Grimmjow sighed and kissed his forehead, heart and chest filling up like a tea cup.

 _He was in love with Ichigo_.

He thought that just the thought of it would send him into hysterics, or at least make him cringe, but instead, he was engulfed in a pleasant, tingling heat. He hated sounding so sappy, even in his mind, but there was absolutely no way he could run from, or deny what he was feeling for Ichigo. Now, all he had to worry about was telling him. That thought _did_ make him cringe. He wasn't too keen on rejection and he would never admit aloud that he was completely terrified of telling Ichigo that he loved him, only to be subjected to a reaction similar to Ichigo's initial one to Grimmjow's first confession. His skin crawled and his blood turned to ice.

_What if Ichigo didn't like him like that? What if it was only sex for the other man?_

Grimmjow carefully removed himself from Ichigo's iron grip and rolled out of the bed, mind in turmoil. He didn't know what he would do if Ichigo rejected him. _Not after what they'd just shared a few hours before_. He licked his lips and searched the room in the dark for his underwear, his eyes easily adapting to the blackness. He went to the dresser and retrieved a pair of hunter-green boxers, slid into them and slowly made his way to the bedroom door, all the while trying to guess what Nnoitra could want.

When he opened the door, Nnoitra stood on the other side, his face devoid of its usual wide, piano key-toothed grin. His pale face was slack and rather serious for a change. The only difference was that he was without his cloth that usually hid his left eye from the public. Grimmjow briefly examined the long, thin scar that sliced through his left eye, rendering it permanently shut and damaged, before letting his gaze travel over his friend's naked, wiry torso and down to the black boxers that made him resemble a bamboo reed.

"We need ta talk," he said quietly, quickly glancing over Grimmjow's shoulder and into the bedroom.

Grimmjow nodded and stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him, then pointing towards the sitting room, where they both trooped, trying to make as little noise as possible (which wasn't very hard), and took a seat on the couch, Grimmjow absently noticing that Neliel was still missing. _Maybe she was with Kisuke_. "What's the problem?" Grimmjow asked.

Nnoitra eyed him intensely before sighing and running a hand through his long, black hair. "Me an' Shinji were talkin' the other day. Jus' normal shit, I guess. Then, he starts talkin' 'bout Ichigo and how they grew up tagether. Not my business, so I was kinda tunin' it out, til he said Ichigo's got two sisters and his mom is dead," he explained, ending his speech with a pointed look in Grimmjow's direction.

"What? That's nothing terrible. You say that as if-"

"Ya fergot what Kisuke was talkin' 'bout earlier, already?" Nnoitra snapped, frowning in disapproval.

Grimmjow scowled and studied the floor and his bare feet. He knew there was something he was supposed to remember, but his brain was still in the other room with Ichigo. "Just tell me," he finally growled, frustrated.

"The thing 'bout the royal family of Eieren havin' a king, three kids an' a dead queen. If Ichigo's got two sisters and his mom's dead, then-"

"Wait!" Grimmjow interrupted, throwing his hand into the air as he glared at his best friend. "You can't just assume things like that, Nnoitra. It's dangerous and there's no way to tell if it's true or not."

"Tch, ya go ahead and keep yer head in the sand if ya want. That ain't a coincidence. Kisuke didn' wan' Shinji ta hear him sayin' that 'bout the Eieren family, not ta mention, he's got Ichigo livin' in his buildin'. Grimm, I know ya ain't dumb, so stop actin' like it!"

Grimmjow sat in silence, contemplating all that Nnoitra had just told him. _It was too coincidental to not be true, but he couldn't afford to make assumptions like that_. _Besides, wouldn't he be able to tell if Ichigo was Fae, like himself?_ _Then again, he hadn't been able to tell with Kisuke until the man had spoken in their language and basically revealed himself_. Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, agitated.

_Was Ichigo a fairy?_

If he was, Ichigo himself certainly wasn't aware of it, judging by his previous behavior to them when Kisuke had finally deigned to explain the existence of their kind.

XOXOXO

"Szayel, are you certain this will lead to the Elorian prince's current location?" Aizen asked, staring at the dark void a few paces in front of him.

Szayel nodded, his expression one of barely contained exasperation. "Yes, Aizen, Sir. This is where the majority of the prince's reiatsu accumulated, so it would stand to reason that this is where the last La Garganta was opened," he replied, his voice a bored drawl.

Aizen coolly resisted the urge to snarl at the pink-haired sorcerer and instead, turned to his general and second-in-command, who flanked him on either side. "Ulquiorra will go through first; I will follow. Szayel, you and Tousen will bring up the rear. I don't foresee any human being able to withstand our joined forces, let alone mine in itself."

Ulquiorra bowed in acceptance before gripping his sword, the emerald-green hilt shining brightly. He moved to the void, his face and deep, green eyes empty of emotion, and stepped into the endless darkness. Aizen watched anxiously, hoping that nothing would go wrong and that he would be able to find the Elorian prince as soon as possible. He didn't want to linger in another dimension filled with nothing but worthless humans and their numerous offspring. The thought alone disgusted him and made him force down a shudder.

When Ulquiorra made no noise of shock, and there was also no sound of a struggle, he moved forward and stopped right before entering La Garganta. He shifted his gaze to the pink-haired sorcerer and gave him a look that clearly conveyed what would happen should Szayel decide to betray him, or try something else equally foolish. Not that Tousen would allow such a thing to occur, but one never knew with a sorcerer.

"You have my permission to kill anyone who opposes me," he stated before turning and heading into the darkness.

The abrupt blanket of black caused a slight feeling of vertigo and discomfort, making his reiatsu flare and envelope him. He refused to show any weakness, even in such an environment, so he forged ahead, his hand going to the sword at his hip. He doubted he would need it, but he'd brought it along just in case. He lived by the saying "it was better to have and not need, than need and not have." It was infinitely true for many things in life and he'd made sure that all of his followers and servants adhered to the same rule.

The dark seemed to go on for much longer than he liked and just as he was starting to get annoyed and anxious, he heard loud talking from ahead. Grinning secretly to himself, he quickened his pace until he spied an opening in the darkness, light and foreign objects in plain sight. He quietly stepped through the end of the void, which had opened up like a set of giant teeth and was greeted with the sight he had been aching to see.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, the blue-haired Elorian prince, wearing nothing but a small, green pair of some type of cut-off pants, chest bare for him to enjoy.

His entrance into the small, strange-looking room, halted all conversation, no matter how loud it had previously been. All eyes turned to him and he studied them with an air of aloofness that even exceeded his daily amount. Ulquiorra had a very tall fairy seated on the floor, his back against the wall and his right, slitted eye locked on the menacing sword pointed directly at his throat, his left shut, due to a paper-thin scar slashing through it. His right eye sported a cut above the brow and his bottom lip was split and bleeding. One move and Aizen was sure that the tall fairy knew his life would cease to exist. The Elorian prince, Grimmjow, stood staring at him before darting his gaze to the tall fairy and Ulquiorra, his dazzlingly blue eyes wide with astonishment and disbelief.

Aizen grinned again. "Grimmjow, I presume?"

Grimmjow glanced in his direction again, eyes narrowing with suspicion and mistrust. "I don't know you, so how is it you know my name?" he growled and his deep voice made Aizen shiver with delight.

 _He could already imagine the things he had planned for the Elorian prince_.

"I am Aizen."

A brief silence descended, where the only sounds were the heaving breaths coming from the tall fairy on the floor. Then, all of a sudden, there was a startled shout that Aizen could only describe as one of recognition. Aizen glanced over at the source and found the tall fairy staring at him with so much hatred and malice, had he not been the strongest being in existence, he was sure he would have withered up and floated away in the breeze.

"You!" the tall one snarled, his upper lip curling back with disdain. "Yer responsible fer all a'this!"

Grimmjow whipped his head around to stare at the tall one in shock, his words obviously having an effect on him. "What the fuck are you talking about, Nnoitra?" the blue-haired prince snapped, his shoulders tensing.

 _Ahh, Nnoitra, huh?_ If Aizen remembered correctly, his surname was Jiruga, and if he further remembered correctly, his family had been traitors to the Elorian kingdom. _So, how then was he here with the prince?_

"Fuck, Grimm, dontcha remember shit? Kisuke and Gin were talkin' 'bout this guy! He's the coward that killed off our people, tried to kill us and _did_ kill...your parents."

The change that immediately came over Grimmjow was frightening. Glowing, blue eyes turned in his direction and blazed like a bonfire. " _You?_ " he choked, anger keeping his throat tight and face blank.

Aizen nodded, proud to have rid their dimension of the disease known as the Elorian clan, especially the king that had so callously killed his family and people. "Yes," he stated calmly.

He easily read the taut muscles that indicated Grimmjow was about to lunge, so when the blue-haired prince did, he was prepared for it. Grimmjow came at him swiftly, hands curled into claws as he sprang for Aizen's face. Aizen sighed sadly, upset that he would have to hurt his future pet, but what needed to be done, needed to be done. He stepped out of Grimmjow's way and in two blink-of-an-eye movements, he drew his sword and forced the hilt into the prince's belly, making him double over in pain and shock. Aizen guessed Grimmjow hadn't been expecting to be defeated so effortlessly. One more ready chop to the back of the prince's neck, rendered him unconscious and completely immobile, allowing the prince's figure to fall heavily into his arms.

The tall fairy that had been on the floor, the Jiruga, had leaped to his feet in the short span of confusion, his voice thunderous and panicked. "GRIMMJOW!" he screamed as he too lunged towards the lifeless body of his friend.

Aizen didn't even bat an eyelash because Ulquiorra stepped in and ran his sword through the Jiruga brat's middle, making all of his movements cease and his undamaged eye widen, clearly stunned. The Jiruga slowly focused on the sword still spearing his middle as his hands came up to reach for it. Bright, crimson trails gathered at the tall fairy's feet, Aizen watching in satisfaction as the Jiruga crumpled to his knees. Aizen hefted the prince over his shoulder, which was indeed a feat; the blue-haired Elorian was heavier than he appeared. Still, it didn't deter him from his goal: getting the prince back to Faery.

A sudden commotion to his right turned his gaze in that direction, making him arch a brow at what he saw. A slim, bright-orange-haired boy stood near an open door, eyes wide, but brows furrowed. Beside him stood a shorter, but almost equally slender, blond boy. He was also gaping at Aizen in shock, until his eyes went to the Jiruga lying on the floor, his blood pooling around him. Ulquiorra had already removed his sword from the taller fairy's body and sheathed it, and was waiting patiently for his next orders.

Aizen locked eyes with his general and nodded briefly. Behind him, Szayel snapped his fingers and the void – that he hadn't even noticed had momentarily disappeared – reopened, allowing the sorcerer to step inside and lead the way back to their dimension. "We're going," he grunted at Tousen and Ulquiorra, who were watching the blond and orange-haired boys warily.

The blond had rushed to the side of the Jiruga, his honey-brown eyes still wide, but confused, despairing and filled with tears a she mumbled under his breath to the speechless Jiruga. The orange-haired one had been standing still as stone, his maple-brown eyes fixated on the prince in Aizen's arms, his lips slowly peeling back to form a graduated sneer that bared his teeth. Before Aizen could even register it, the boy shouted the prince's name and leaped forward, his speed impressive, but not quite enough. Tousen stepped in before Ulquiorra had a chance to, and landed a one-handed, open-palmed blow to the boy's chest, sending him flying backwards against the wall. The blond boy screamed and rushed to the orange-haired one's side, but as if impervious to any form of pain, the orange-haired one slowly sat up from his spot and tried to climb to his feet, his eyes still locked on the prince.

 _Hm_.

Luckily for him, the blond held him down, but it had to have been hard work because the orange-haired one thrashed and yelled, shouting a language Aizen didn't understand. It only made him frown slightly in confusion before casually shrugging the shoulder that wasn't being weighed down by the prince, and stepping into the void.

 _He had more important matters to tend to_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo's chest stung and heaved as he stared at the dark hole that the tall, intimidating, brunet fairy disappeared into. His companions followed behind him, turning to glance threateningly at him and Shinji several times before the hole slid shut like a Venus fly trap. His back was aching, his head pounding, his limbs trembling, but it was nothing compared to what he was dealing with inside: emotionally. His heart felt like someone had placed a blood pressure cuff on it and was abusing the pressure meter.

He'd been sleeping peacefully when he'd felt Grimmjow slip from the bed, but hadn't paid it any mind, thinking the blue-haired fairy was just going to the bathroom. He'd instantly gone back to sleep, his body still exhausted and completely sated. He remembered being jerked awake by furious yelling and sounds of scuffling. His heart pounding with apprehension, he'd quietly left the bed, wondering if Grimmjow had gotten into an altercation with Nnoitra again; that tended to happen on occasion. When he'd approached his bedroom door, he clearly heard Nnoitra yelling Grimmjow's name and then a heavy silence descended. Ichigo had known that something had been utterly wrong. If Nnoitra and Grimmjow had been arguing or fighting, Nnoitra wouldn't have yelled Grimmjow's name as if the man had been dying.

A sense of dread weighing down his stomach, he slithered from his room, meeting Shinji in the hallway. Shinji's eyes were wide and confused, which only further convinced Ichigo that something had been totally wrong. They turned to the scene in the sitting room and went silent, both from shock and disbelief. Ichigo felt like his brain had ceased to function as he took in the horrifying sight of Grimmjow lifelessly draped over the shoulder of a tall, brunet fairy, wearing what looked like a white ceremonial robe, with a black collar, and white, old-fashioned hakama underneath. On his feet were black, armored boots and a sword was hanging from his side.

Grimmjow had only had on a pair of green boxers, leaving him exposed and humiliated. Ichigo had instantly gone defensive and pissed. He hadn't known what exactly the fuck had been going on, but he hadn't been about to sit and let some stranger snatch up his...Grimmjow. _Not without a fight_. Unfortunately, there had been nothing Ichigo could have done. They had all been incredibly stronger than him, and even if he had had Shinji's help, it still wouldn't have helped matters. Besides, Shinji had had his own problems to deal with. Nnoitra had been gravely injured, a sword piercing his mid-section, causing him to lay on the floor panting and grasping the spot the sword had torn through.

Ichigo knew that if Shinji hadn't have held him back from trying to reach Grimmjow again, he would probably be dead right now, but his brain was unwilling to accept that fact. All everything boiled down to was that Grimmjow had been taken from him right from under his nose. He didn't know why; he didn't really care. All he needed to know now, was how to get him back. He wouldn't be able to live with himself, with the guilt that Grimmjow's being taken had somehow been his fault. _He could have fought harder, he could have done more_...

A soft sob from his best friend drew him from his panicked thoughts. Shinji was huddled over Nnoitra again, this time his blond hair shadowing his face as he rested his hands on the tall fairy's shoulders. Nnoitra had gone unconscious, which in his state, was extremely dangerous. Ichigo summoned the strength to wobble over to the house phone in the kitchen, his entire body protesting with each step, where he lifted the receiver from the cradle and dialed Urahara's number.

The phone hadn't even begun ringing, when the door to their apartment was thrown open, revealing Urahara, his nephew Gin, and Nel. Urahara appeared violently harassed, his shaggy, blond hair standing up on end, and the tan and green tunic he wore, hanging off his left shoulder. Gin and Nel were almost in the same state, and had the situation not been as serious as it was, he may have laughed at the picture the three fairies made. Instead, a choked sob broke free from him, startling him as he stared down at the phone in his hand. Urahara appeared right beside him, but Ichigo was too distraught to wonder how the blond man had seemed to cross the room in less than a blink of an eye. He turned to Urahara and leaned into the hand that the older blond rested on his shaking shoulder.

"Is he gone?" Urahara asked quietly.

Ichigo knew exactly who the man was talking about, so all he did was nod as the hot tears he hadn't even realized he'd been holding at bay, crept down the sides of his face and his nose began to run. He felt like such a loser, so helpless. He felt like it was all his fault that some dangerously unhinged fairy had come and taken his...

 _His_...

Ichigo sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes. _He wasn't helpless and this shit wasn't his fault_. Anger formed in his gut and traveled through his bloodstream, turning his eyes cold and livid. _Just who the fuck did that brunet asshole think he was? Grimmjow was HIS and wasn't about to let things stand as otherwise_.

He gave his attention to the older blond, his eyes determined. "I'm gonna get him back," he growled.

Urahara's own eyes widened for the briefest of moments before a small smile formed in the corners of his lips. "I was hoping you would say that," he said.

Ichigo fleetingly registered Gin stooped beside Nnoitra and Shinji, his best friend still quietly crying as he lingered next to his lover. Nel was perched on the couch, tears sliding down her face as she stared off into space, probably concerned about her brother. Ichigo felt the same way, but first, he needed some answers, like who the fuck that fairy was, why he'd taken Grimmjow, and how Ichigo could get him back.

Ichigo had never felt pain like what he'd felt when he'd seen that fairy holding Grimmjow's unmoving body over his shoulder. When he'd watched helplessly as that same fairy took the man he loved away-

Ichigo's eyes widened, his heart skipping in his chest. His hand came up to grip the spot over his heart as he stared down at his feet in complete awe and amazement. He definitely had to get Grimmjow back now.

 _He loved him_.


	12. More To It

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Grimmjow's eyes slowly opened, his head throbbing painfully and a sharp sting stabbing his ankles and wrists. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to his surroundings. He was dismayed to find that his legs were shackled to a cold, damp stone floor and his wrists held over his head and shackled to a cold, damp stone wall. There was a small sliver of light coming from under a large wooden door across from him, but there were no windows and the air reeked of waste, decay and mold. He spotted a pile of decrepit hay in the left corner of the room, the floor covered in what looked like rat droppings.

He curled his upper lip, the strong odor assaulting his sensitive nose. Where the hell was he? Out of nowhere, a barrage of images flew at him. He remembered talking to Nnoitra in the sitting room about the possibility of Ichigo being the heir to the lost clan of Eieren, before a small, dark-haired and green-eyed fairy had emerged out of thin air. He'd been using La Garganta, the same method of transportation Grimmjow, Neliel and Nnoitra had used to get to the human dimension. As soon as he'd entered the room, he'd attacked Nnoitra, Grimmjow's best friend not even standing a chance against the short, but militantly stoic fairy.

After that, a brunet fairy with cold brown eyes had stepped into the room, his chin held high and nose upturned. Grimmjow had felt ice sweep over him as the smell of oppressively evil power invaded his nose. He hadn't quite understood what'd been going on until Nnoitra had informed him of the man's identity. Hearing "I am Aizen" hadn't been enough for his tired mind to grasp. The realization of who the fairy emitting waves of strength was, hit Grimmjow hard. All he could remember were the anguished faces of his people as they were killed. Even his parents. God, his mother.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth as heat stung his eyes and tingled the inside of his nose. Anger so raw consumed him and made him struggle against his restraints. It was fruitless. Just like his brief fight with Aizen had been. He hadn't expected the man to regard him as a nonthreat - not that he'd even cared at the time. The fact that Grimmjow had been so easily defeated left a sour taste in his mouth. _If only I'd had Pantera,_ he thought bitterly as he hung his head. Maybe if he'd had his birthright, he would have been able to make that Aizen asshole take him seriously. No one had ever been able to defeat him in his Resurreccion form. Although, Nnoitra had come close with his.

He'd never encountered the higher levels of the other clans because he'd never met any survivors. Roande had been destroyed; so had Eieren. That had left Eloria. Now, _they_ were gone. Despair clutched him in its fist and made him gasp for air. He couldn't believe his kind was becoming extinct and all because of an egotistical madman.

And Ichigo. What would happen to him? Did he even know that Grimmjow had been attacked? Was more than likely back in Faery? Did he care if he _did_ know? Grimmjow hung his head, dejected. Just when he thought he'd found someone to love and be with, _this_ had to happen. He already missed Ichigo's warm sienna eyes and bright orange hair. That interesting smell of clean clothes and freshly washed skin. That carefree smile and those cavernous dimples.

Grimmjow growled, frustrated as he struggled against his restraints again. He had to get out of...wherever he was. He needed to see Ichigo again, needed to touch and kiss him again. His place was at the orange-haired man's side, after all. His struggling did nothing but chafe his skin and make his ankles and wrists ache. The shackles were snug and prevented any form of escape. Stewing in his misery, he hung his head in defeat. For now. Someone would have to come in sooner or later and when they did, he would find a way out of the shackles.

Just as Grimmjow was growing accustomed to the eerie silence and pressing darkness, the wooden door swung open, revealing a tall, broad silhouette. He squinted at the sudden bright white light behind the figure, his pupils constricting.

"Oh, so you're awake."

That voice. There was no doubt about it. It was Aizen. Grimmjow's thoughts were confirmed when the brunet stepped into the dark room, the wooden door slamming shut behind him. Grimmjow's heart rate picked up when he heard the soft rustling of robes and the equally soft thuds of the fairy's armored boots. His nose picked up the man's scent of ginger tea and sheer evil the closer he came. Grimmjow shifted under the weight of the shackles. He hated being so vulnerable. Chained to the wall and floor, he had no way to defend himself.

He was helpless.

Aizen seemed to stop right in front of Grimmjow, his powerful aura filling the room like thick, black smoke. The brunet waved a hand carelessly, his movements lazy, yet calculated. A small ball of light formed in front of him, then split up and shot to all four walls of the tiny room, where they alighted to torch fixtures. The room seemed to glow like a flickering candle, shadows dancing on the stone walls. With the illumination, Grimmjow was able to take in his environment a lot easier, but what he saw curdled his blood and made him want to scream.

Full skeletons were draped across the floor to Grimmjow's right and two more were chained to the wall, as if the victims had been left to die and forgotten about for ages. Grimmjow pursed his lips, his brow pulled into a deep scowl. No wonder the room smelled so bad. He felt a strong amount of pity for the souls that had suffered here.

"Don't worry. If you behave and cooperate, you won't end up like them," Aizen stated smoothly, deep voice satiny and convincing.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth and peeled his lips from his teeth in an expert sneer. "Fuck you," he snapped.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such language from a beautiful creature like you. That won't do. Also, I'm so sad to see that you've cut your gorgeous hair. That was all part of your appeal, you realize?"

Grimmjow frowned, confused. "What're you talking about?"

"My, my, but you _are_ still amazing," the fairy went on as if Grimmjow hadn't said a word. "I suppose I can bear with the loss of those wondrous tresses."

Aizen lifted his hand to Grimmjow's face and Grimmjow had to physically hold back a flinch. He didn't want to show this evil being an ounce of weakness. Aizen didn't hit him like Grimmjow had been expecting; instead, he cupped Grimmjow's chin and turned his face from side to side, studying it as if he were searching for flaws.

"You are _so_ perfect," the brunet whispered in awe.

Grimmjow felt his insides writhe unpleasantly. What the fuck was Aizen going on about? The fairy actually sounded like he was...interested in Grimmjow. The tips of Aizen's fingers burned like acid. Grimmjow didn't want anyone touching him that way except Ichigo. _His_ Ichigo.

Suddenly, Aizen leaned forward, lips coming dangerously close to Grimmjow's. _No!_ his mind shrieked in panic. This wasn't happening. He struggled against the man's iron grip, his body bucking and thrashing, straining against the shackles keeping him in place. His knee managed to jerk upward and caught Aizen in the thigh, just below the fairy's goods. Aizen's face stopped moving towards him and his brown eyes went frigid. The temperature in the room dropped drastically, the fairy's power whipping around the small space frantically and making the lit torches sputter.

Grimmjow held the fairy's gaze and clenched his teeth. When Aizen reared back and slapped him, he'd been expecting it. He _hadn't_ been expecting the pain, though. His face exploded and his skin seemed to tear straight from the muscles. Stars flashed and cluttered his vision as his head snapped to the right. Grimmjow only had a chance to work his stinging jaw a couple of times before it was once again grabbed, this time with much more force. His face was yanked around and he was forced into eye contact with the deranged brunet fairy.

"I will have you. I don't care if it requires me to break you first, but I _will_ have you, Elorian Prince," Aizen said coolly, features not even scrunched in anger.

Grimmjow swallowed the bile rising in the back of his throat as Aizen let his face go and swept from the room, taking the light from the torches with him. Grimmjow licked the corner of his mouth, tasting blood, then hung his head again. And just to think, he'd been perfectly happy not too long ago.

XOXOXO

Ichigo stared at Urahara, his heart pounding madly. "What?"

"I understand you're surprised, but what I told you is the truth."

"That's impossible. If I was a fucking fairy, I think I would know, don't you?"

Urahara laughed and whipped out that stupid paper fan. "Do you really believe that?"

Ichigo sat down hard on the couch in the sitting room. Shinji was in his bedroom with Gin, who was still trying to keep Nnoitra from losing his life to the severe wound in his middle, so the younger blond hadn't heard the lovely news that Urahara had just shared with Ichigo. How was Ichigo supposed to believe that he was a fairy after he'd been "human" his whole life? And why hadn't his old man bothered to tell him something so important?

"So, let me get this straight. I'm a fairy, my…my dad is a fairy…in fact, my whole family is Fae. Why don't we have the ears and the super strength and all that good shit?" he asked.

Again Urahara laughed, his fan waving back and forth languidly. "Your family came here in hiding, so I had to place the strongest illusions on all of you to allow you to lead a human life. To avoid suspicion, of course. As the royal family of Eieren, it wouldn't-"

"Wait! _What_?" Ichigo shouted, jumping from his seat. "What do you mean _royal_? Like _Grimmjow_ , royal?"

"Yes," Urahara answered, face calm and devoid of any emotion.

"Where's my old man? He needs to tell me this shit himself. Does he know about all this?"

"As the King of the Eieren clan, he very well should, don't you think?"

"Don't get snippy with me, _asshole_! This is in no way makes any sense to me right now. If this is true, then that means you've known about it for a while. _I_ haven't! Don't give me _sarcasm_ for asking questions and being rightfully skeptical."

"You misunderstand me, Kurosaki-kun. I'm only trying to get you to see the truth and use your head. We don't have the luxury of time in this instance, however wonderful that may be. Grimmjow is in the hands of an extremely dangerous fairy. Aizen will not see reason, he will not negotiate, and we have no idea why he wants the Elorian prince in the first place."

Ichigo snarled, his upper lip curling back ferociously as he balled his hands into fists. "I _know_ that. You don't have to remind me that some crazy ass fairy came and snatched my-"

Ichigo stopped abruptly, his heart freezing as well. What had he been about to admit? Had he really been about to confess to Urahara how he felt about Grimmjow? Ichigo sighed and slowly lowered himself onto the couch. He would hold onto that thought for the time being. First, he needed to figure out what the deal was with his situation and newly learned heritage.

"Kurosaki-kun, I have already called your father. He's on his way to explain things a bit better than I've managed to. There are still many things that you need to know."

"Yeah, no shit," Ichigo returned rather sullenly.

He wasn't in a very charitable mood.

Right when he felt like he would sink into the darkest pits of his thoughts, Shinji came out of his bedroom, eyes red-rimmed and face telling of his exhaustion and stress. Gin wasn't behind him, so Ichigo figured the tall, silver-haired fairy was still working his magic – no pun intended – on the unconscious Nnoitra. The slender blond shuffled his way into the sitting room, then plopped down on the floor in front of Ichigo's legs. His head instantly found Ichigo's knee and the action made Ichigo's heart go out to his best friend. He hated seeing Shinji upset, considering it was so rare.

Ichigo lifted a hand and passed it through the sweat-dampened blond strands resting against his leg. "How is he?" he asked carefully.

Shinji was silent for a few seconds before he sighed deeply and shrugged almost helplessly. "He's still alive, but barely," he whispered, voice cracking.

A thick, almost eerie quietness enveloped the room, making Ichigo itch to move around in place. He didn't know what to say to his friend. He felt that anything reassuring would seem a bit out of place, and really not what Shinji wanted to hear at the moment. Urahara edged into view and propped himself on the arm of the couch, his paper fan tucked into his tunic, thankfully. Ichigo really didn't understand the necessity of that thing. Urahara looked like he wanted to say something to his adopted son, but like Ichigo, couldn't find the words to say. Instead, all he did was sit and watch Shinji rest his eyes and lay against Ichigo's knee.

The sound of heavy knocking scattered the silence like marbles and made everyone in the sitting room jump like excited frogs. Ichigo glanced at the apartment door, apprehension crawling around in his gut, making him nauseous. He supposed that could only be one person at the door at this hour, and all of a sudden, he was afraid to hear what his old man had to tell him. What if Urahara was telling the truth and not just pulling his leg? Could he handle that? Ichigo bit his bottom lip and scowled. He didn't think so, but he wasn't about to run from whatever was going to happen.

Urahara rose from his perch, dramatically slow, as if he were moving like a snail on purpose, and made his way to the door. He looked back at Ichigo, dark eyes filled with a teasing mystery and if Ichigo'd had something to throw at the man's head, he would have.

"Just open the door already!" he snapped.

Urahara actually snickered and turned back to the door, his hand going for the knob. "Hai, hai."

The door was pulled open, but who appeared in the threshold wasn't who Ichigo had been expecting. Instead, a head full of ash-white hair popped into view. _No way_ , Ichigo thought, his mouth falling open slightly. What the fuck was Shirosaki doing at his house now?

"Ah, Shiro-kun," Urahara said with a small bow. "Nice to see you again."

"Yo, Hat Guy, how goes it? Where's the fire?" Shiro responded, his strange eyes twinkling with amusement and misconduct.

Before Urahara could respond, another voice Ichigo hadn't been expecting, interjected. "Must you be so uncouth?"

Ichigo's eyebrows partied on the ceiling and his mouth went dry. What the hell was going on exactly? Finally, the voice he had been expecting boomed over all the others. "We found a stray in the hallway! Do you recognize this young fellow, Kisuke?"

Ichigo shook his head, wondering what poor soul had been sidetracked by his old man. If he knew his father – which he did – whoever was in his custody had probably been dragged by the arm, kicking and screaming the whole way. Urahara stepped back from the door and quirked his lips as he allowed their visitors to enter the apartment.

"No, I can't say that I do, Isshin."

Ichigo watched as Shirosaki sauntered into the room first, manic grin spread across his pale features. He was wearing a black tee today, with black cargo shorts and black sneakers, that large sword case strapped to his back once again. He was followed by Byakuya Kuchiki, Ichigo's professor at the University, who wore a matching outfit, sword case attached to his back as well. Byakuya wore his stoic personality like a coat, his features slack, but violet eyes piercing and sharp as they searched the room. They settled on the spot of blood in the middle of the floor and narrowed before swinging around the room again, taking in the overturned coffee table and general disorder, Ichigo supposed. Finally, Ichigo's father bounced into the room, dragging a small, snowy-haired boy behind him.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. _Fucking idiot_ , he inwardly sighed.

" _No_ , I wasn't _spying_ on you!" the boy growled and Ichigo had to re-evaluate his opinion. The boy didn't sound like a boy at all.

Isshin glanced down at the guy, but maintained his grip on the slim arm. He started to speak, but Shiro cut in ahead of him. "Then what the hell were ya doin' roamin' the halls and askin' fer Grimmjow for? How d'ya know Grimmjow, anyway?"

Ichigo's ears perked up at the sound of Grimmjow's name. A stranger that knew Grimmjow by name? That couldn't be a coincidence. He sat forward, Shinji shifting in front of him to make room for his movement. The snowy-haired, short male peered up at Isshin before shrugging the man off roughly. After Isshin's grip loosened, the guy peered up at him and frowned, his head tilting to the side in a curious manner.

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" the guy asked, his voice deeper than Ichigo's.

Isshin's eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds before morphing back into wide innocence and laughing idiocy. Ichigo was no fool and the short, white-haired fellow didn't appear to be, either. He stared Isshin down for a bit longer, eyes the color of aqua crystals, suspicious and calculating. He seemed like he was running over all the places he could have seen the taller man.

Suddenly, those eyes widened and his mouth fell open in what Ichigo assumed had to be shock. "You-" he choked, his finger coming up to point at Isshin's broad chest.

He was unable to get the rest of his words out before Shiro appeared beside him, long sword no longer in its case, but aimed directly at the little dude's neck. Little Dude snapped his mouth shut as his face paled and his eyes grew even wider.

"Watch that hand a'yers. Shit like that makes me nervous," Shiro said lowly, making Ichigo raise his eyebrows in astonishment.

What the hell was going on? It felt like Shiro was protecting Ichigo's old man, but Ichigo didn't want to jump to conclusions. Then, he glanced over at Byakuya and the jumping to conclusions idea disappeared like vapor. Byakuya was glaring at Little Dude too, his sword drawn but resting ominously at his side. The crazy thing though: Ichigo hadn't even heard either of the men move, let alone draw swords.

Little Dude swallowed audibly and Ichigo would bet that the guy's chest was hurting from how hard and fast his heart was probably beating. "I wasn't threatening him. I just, I just recognized him," Little Dude said quietly, deep voice completely out of place compared to his small body.

Shiro snorted, his sword pressing closer to Little Dude's neck, causing a thin line of blood to appear. "That's worse, ya know."

Ichigo slowly climbed to his feet, tired of being ignored and curious of Little Dude's identity. He waved a hand nonchalantly. "Hi! Remember me?"

All eyes swung in his direction, Urahara's exasperated, Little Dude's desperate, Byakuya's disinterested and Shiro's highly amused. Ichigo's old man cracked a grin that stretched his generous mouth to his sideburns. "Ichigo, my sonnn! How could I ever forget you?" he shouted.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and stepped over Shinji, who was still seated on the floor, face hopeless and depressed. He came to a stop in front of his father and poked the man in the chest. Hard. "Stop. Being. An. Idiot. IDIOT! Urahara told me something that _you_ need to explain. Like _now_."

 _Finally_ , the older man's face became sober as he studied Ichigo. He rubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw, his head automatically listing to the side as he obviously pondered over something. Ichigo cocked his head to the side as well, giving his old man an impatient glare as he waited for him to say something. Anything.

"What have you already told him, Kisuke?" Isshin asked, his upper body turning to face Urahara.

Urahara's fan went back to waving as it appeared from the sleeve of his tunic. "Er, well-"

"Did you know that Grimmjow was a fairy?" Ichigo blurted, studying his father's face for any sign of surprise. When all he found was a sort of resigned weariness, he huffed. "You knew the whole time, didn't you? So, does that mean it's true what Urahara said about us being Fae? You, me, Karin, Yuzu? Mom?" Ichigo ended in a whisper.

Isshin's face tightened briefly before he nodded shortly. "It's true," he said, hammering the nail into place.

Ichigo glared at the carpet, his heart losing its mind and his nerves going haywire. It was true. He was a fairy, the same as Grimmjow. The shock was too fresh, the news too real. He decided to just get the bare facts for now, so he could come up with a way to get Grimmjow back. He would deal with what he was later, when he had time to sit and think on it.

"So, has Urahara told you what happened?" Ichigo asked his old man.

Isshin nodded, but his eyes were confused. "Ichigo, don't you want to know more abou-"

Ichigo held up a hand, cutting him off. "No. I'll ask about that later. Right now, I just wanna get Grimmjow back. What do you know about this Aizen guy?"

"…He's driven by revenge. He believes that the Elorian clan destroyed his clan, Roande, but it's not true. Well, no, in a manner of speaking, it is. It's just not in the way he believes," Isshin answered.

Urahara stepped in. "The reason the Eieren clan fell was for the same reason that the Elorian clan was led to destroy Roande. There was a traitor in our midst that had no other desire than to see our world burn."

"OK, you lost me. Mind speaking in layman's terms?" Ichigo drawled, going back to the couch.

Urahara grinned and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Little Dude, who was still being held hostage by Shirosaki. "Eieren was betrayed by their own kind, a family who's surname is Grantz. They wanted all of the royal clans to fall, until there were no more, leaving all Fae as commoners, as the Grantz family were. They had someone kill one of the Eieren king's advisors, then framed the king himself, causing mass discord amongst the clan. Which is why the royal family of Eieren had to flee the kingdom. Most thought them dead, while others thought they'd just disappeared."

The room fell deathly silent as all eyes went to Little Dude. Ichigo wanted to laugh at the bright red stain creeping over Little Dude's face, but had a more pressing matter to tend to. "Um, what's your name?" he asked.

"Toshiro. Hitsugaya."

Ichigo had never heard the name before and he'd never seen the little, snowy-haired man before, but Toshiro obviously knew a lot about Fae. Perhaps he could help them get Grimmjow back. Before Ichigo could open his mouth to ask Toshiro anything else, Urahara stepped in, his fan strangely inert.

"Would you mind telling us how you came to have that knowledge?"

Toshiro glanced at the older blond and shrugged. His hand crept up to a black skully, slowly pulling it off and revealing more of that gleaming white hair. It also revealed a pair of pointed ears that made Ichigo's eyes widen. That silence was back forcefully, while all the occupants of the room stared Toshiro down. Ichigo knew the guy had to feel like an object under a microscope.

"Does that give you an answer?" Toshiro asked quietly, his aqua eyes intense.

Isshin cleared his throat and raised a hand, indicating for Shiro to lower his sword. "Toshiro, did you say?"

Toshiro nodded. "Yes. I was informed of my heritage only recently by my grandfather."

"And he was a fairy as well?" Urahara asked.

Toshiro nodded.

Isshin took a step closer to Toshiro, making Shiro glance back and forth between the two warily, his actions uncertain of the unfolding situation. His pale brows were furrowed and his grip on his sword had tightened. Ichigo would have felt bad for him if he hadn't been more focused on what his old man was about to say to Toshiro.

"What was your grandfather's name?"

"Yamamoto-"

"I had a feeling."

Ichigo's neck was getting tired from swinging back and forth between Toshiro, Urahara and his old man, but the more they spoke, the more intense things became.

"Actually, my grandfather didn't tell me what I was. My mother did. She, um, she came to me in a sort of-"

"It wasn't a vision," Urahara interjected. "She used a method of communication only a few powerful sorcerers are capable of. To be able to reach the Resting Life is a tremendous accomplishment."

"I-It is?" Toshiro stuttered.

"Does that mean that you can do it as well, Uncle?" a silvery voice asked from the hall entryway.

Ichigo swung his head around, his eyes immediately going to the tall, silver-haired fairy standing with his hands tucked into his robes. Ichigo could feel his mouth hanging open as he tried to absorb all of the information being tossed around the room. Now what was going on? And since Gin was out of Shinji's room, did that mean that Nnoitra's condition was stable? Or had something terrible happened? Ichigo hated to think of Shinji's reaction if the freakishly tall fairy hadn't survived.

Urahara pursed his lips and nodded. "Yes. I-I just can't believe sensei was here and didn't tell me."

Hearing Urahara stutter was like hearing a one month old child speak fluent English. Ichigo gaped, his temples starting to throb. There was entirely too much going on and he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle all of it.

"Sensei?" Gin snapped, his voice sharp as a pin. "What sensei?"

Urahara gave his signature mysterious smirk, his dark eyes twinkling. "Who do you think taught me and your father?"

Gin went silent, but Ichigo felt like he'd been holding his breath for long enough. "I'm so fucking lost right now," he grumbled. Shiro snorted with laughter, making Ichigo look his way, murder intent in his gaze. "What's funny?"

"You."

"Fuck you," Ichigo snarled, prepared to leap at the stupid albino's throat, but Shinji placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes wide as soup bowls.

"What the hell is going on, Ichi?" he questioned, his voice breathy and confused.

It was then that Ichigo remembered that Shinji had no idea what was going on. He didn't even know about Ichigo and is family being royal fairies. He studied his best friend's dark gaze and shifted his weight. How was he supposed to tell him, when he didn't even know where to start?


	13. Dying

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

**One Week Later**

"AHHH!"

The loud cry ended with muffled sobs that had been held back long enough. The pain was making him delirious. Made him feel like he was dangerously close to losing control of his bladder. He gasped and panted, desperate for it to end, even if it meant his death. He was sure it was better than the torture he was being forced to endure. He didn't know how long he'd been chained up in that filthy dungeon, but it'd been long enough to have his insides aching with hunger and dehydration. He fought long headaches and stomach cramps and his limbs had long ago lost all feeling. At the time, he'd thought he was dying, but now he knew otherwise. That had been a walk in the forest compared to this.

His entire body trembled, wracked with pain he'd never thought possible. His wrists and ankles were bound to the floor by heavy shackles, making movement nothing but a frantic wish. He was completely naked, everything exposed, humiliating him and robbing him of his inbred Elorian pride. His one saving grace was that he was on his hands and knees, giving him a slight modicum of privacy. However, his back and rear were left open for abuse, which was precisely what he was currently experiencing. He'd been dragged from that dungeon and led to _this_ room. This huge, sickeningly white room with a domineering throne placed in the middle of it. He was held captive beside it, at the feet of the very being that had destroyed his people. Not only that, but he could do _nothing_ about it. He was weak, helpless, pitiful. Some king he'd turned out to be. He couldn't even protect himself, let alone an entire clan. But...he'd long stopped feeling. He was numb from the head down. The deranged fairy had stripped him of his pride, his dignity, his anger. Hell, even his hope. All he was left with was mind-numbing pain. Pain that made him long for the Resting Life. Suddenly, an armored boot pressed down on the wounds across his back, making him grit his teeth around the scream building in his chest.

"Have you had enough?" the brunet fairy asked from his perch on high. "Or does Tousen need to continue?"

Even though his lips were dry and cracked from screaming and lack of water, he still managed to force words through them. "P-please," he croaked. "Please."

It was all he could get out. It was the first thing that came to mind, the only thing he could think of that would make the pain stop. Anything to make it go away. Dark chuckling floated over him and made him flinch. Normally, the fairy's laughter preceded more punishment. More misery.

" _Now_ you beg? _Now_ you wish to behave, Prince?"

Grimmjow turned his head and hid his face against his trembling arm, tears winding their way down his cheeks and under his chin. He'd been beaten, burned with magical fire that left no scars, just pain, and starved near to death. His body no longer felt the way it used to, no longer strong and healthy. Now, he felt like simply a ghost, a wraith, feeble and unable to save his own hide. He just wanted it to stop.

"K-kill me. Please...kill me," he whispered.

The fairy – Aizen, wasn't it? – laughed again. "I will do no such thing, Prince."

More quiet sobs. "Make it stop," he begged, beside himself with fear and agony. They were all he knew now. "Please!" he stressed.

"And what do I get in return for such generosity, hm?"

He turned his head and peered from the corner of one blue eye at the creature holding his life within its hands. Frowning with frustration and bottom lip trembling in defeat, he hid his face away again.

"...I-I'll behave."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

A long stretch of silence followed his declaration, where he was left wondering if the fairy would have mercy on him. He'd fought all he could: cursing, punching, kicking, biting, clawing – everything. But none of it had worked. All it did was serve to anger the brunet and that was infinitely worse. That was when the torture had begun and from there, the steady decline of all other emotion. He held onto one feeling, though. One small blossom of hope budded in his heart and was the only reason he remained somewhat sane.

Ichigo.

He didn't know if the orange-haired boy cared that he was gone, didn't know if the boy would try and find him, didn't even know what was going to happen to himself, but he did know that he loved Ichigo. No matter if it meant just one more time, he badly wanted to see Ichigo again.

"Very well. Tousen, have the prince taken to clean quarters. Bathe him, clothe him, feed him. I wish not to see him for a few days until he's reasonably decent. Understood?"

"Yes, Aizen, Sir," the deep voice of his co-tormentor rumbled from the right.

Grimmjow couldn't believe his ears. He'd just been granted a reprieve? He gulped down air, suddenly on the verge of hyperventilating. He was inwardly overjoyed, but outwardly too numb to move. His knees and elbows were raw and his back... His back had certainly seen better days. After being beaten with thick strips of leather, sharp glass embedded within, his back had been literally torn to shreds. Any movement was agonizing.

Aizen's dark-haired cohort strode into Grimmjow's line of sight, automatically making him flinch and cower away. It was so shameful, but he was beyond pride at this point. If it stopped the pain, he was all for it, no matter how degrading. He sniffed, body still taut as tight rope as the man, Tousen, drew nearer. He didn't even relax once the man undid the shackles keeping him in place. He wanted to rub his wrists and ankles, but his muscles were so stiff from not only being in one position for so long, but also from being so tense. Absolutely _everything_ hurt.

"Aizen, Sir. He-"

"Yes, he _does_ look to be the worse for wear, doesn't he? Szayel," Aizen summoned.

"Aizen, Sir?" a pink-haired fairy answered as he too stepped into view.

"The prince needs a hand."

"Yes, Sir."

Grimmjow watched warily as the fairy bowed, then turned towards him, hands outstretched. He immediately shook his head, scared to death that this was just a trap, another form of punishment Aizen had up his sleeve. Fortunately, the pink-haired fairy merely flicked his wrists and caused Grimmjow to levitate. It was a strange feeling. Aside from the misery that was his back, his stomach had acquired a hollow sensation as he was floated from the throne, down the stairs and out the door of the room. He finally allowed his shoulders to slump and the second he did, darkness enveloped him. He was too exhausted and in too much pain to remain conscious.

XOXOXO

Ichigo skidded across the ground on his back before coming to an abrupt stop near a jutting boulder. He spit dirt from his mouth and licked blood from his bottom lip. After huffing an annoyed breath, he climbed shakily to his feet and wiped his brow with the back of his free hand, the other clutching a long, sleek black blade.

"This is _ridiculous!_ I already fought Shiro and kicked his ass! Why do I gotta fight Sensei – I mean Byakuya, too?" he yelled across what appeared to be a barren wasteland, littered with boulders, rocks and dirt.

Isshin, Urahara, Shinji, Gin, Nel and Toshiro were perched on a bench that looked like it'd been nailed to the middle of a cloudless blue sky. This place was something Urahara had created as a means for training, something Ichigo and Shinji had had no clue even existed. Did he mention it was located in the basement of their building? Yeah, it boggled the mind, all this sorcery shit. There should have been no possible way Urahara could fit another continent in his basement, but because he had magic, the sky was no longer the limit. It was merely a landmark.

Shiro also sat on the bench, but he wore a sullen expression along with a myriad collection of bandages. Once Ichigo had gotten the hang of using his birthright, Zangetsu – a gigantic sword that looked more like a butcher knife in its unreleased state – the arrogant albino hadn't stood a chance. Well, he supposed he was being a little arrogant himself. It'd taken him four days to finally defeat the guy and now, he was working on getting past his old sensei. Byakuya proved to be more of a challenge than Shiro, however, and that was really saying something. It was admirable on the stoic man's behalf, but annoying as shit on Ichigo's. He just wanted to be done with this so-called training. They'd wasted precious time and there was no telling what'd happened to Grimmjow. Ichigo wouldn't let his fear overrun him, though. He focused on the fight, focused on his blade that he'd finally tamed into releasing for him. And to think the process was something as simple as calling forth a shit-load of energy and saying his sword's name.

Isshin and Urahara had explained to Ichigo upon their arrival in the "training room" about his heritage and how only royal families were given birthrights. Some were different than others, but most were given in the form of swords. Of course, birthrights had been known to be stolen, which was the case with Aizen. Once Roande had fallen, the royal family's birthright had disappeared along with its owners. Unfortunately, Aizen had been the one to find it and teach himself to wield it with careful research and overpowering magic. It was a shame, but true. The brunet fairy was dangerous and had to be stopped before things got worse.

"You need to be efficient with your birthright," Urahara called back to him. "As it stands, you're not strong enough to defeat Aizen."

"Shit," Ichigo cursed.

He just wanted to see Grimmjow again. Make sure he was OK. If that asshole had done something to the blue-haired fairy, Ichigo would paint the sky with the crazy bastard's blood. At this point, he felt like there was nothing he wouldn't do for Grimmjow. Apparently, love did that to you.

An abrupt kick of dirt made him dive and roll to the right before bringing his sword up to block the downward arc of Byakuya's blade. It clanged noisily before the dark-haired man gracefully leaped backward.

"You aren't concentrating, Ichigo-kun," he calmly stated, deep voice almost bored. It irked like hell.

"Wrong! I'm concentrating my ass off here! You're just too fast!"

"Nonsense. If you cannot catch me, then how do you hope to defeat-"

Ichigo threw up an agitated hand, cutting his sensei off. "Yeah, I got that part already, thanks! Look, this isn't working for me. I'm not going to be able to think through this with Grimmjow in the hands of that..." his voice trailed off as he glared helplessly at the ground.

He was scared, but even more than that, he was worried. His condition was making it near impossible to train properly, which meant he wouldn't be able to save Grimmjow anyway. It was a vicious circle that riled up his temper, leaving him frustrated and ornery. He lifted his gaze and sent it in his old man's direction.

"What do I gotta do to actually beat this guy?" he asked.

Isshin studied him for a beat, then sighed. "There's a way to boost your strength, but it's extremely dangerous."

Ichigo chuckled and ran a hand through his damp hair. "So what's the _bad_ news?"

"Ichigo, my son, this is serious. The consequences could be-"

"Disastrous? Apocalyptic? Dad, I think I can handle it. I mean, do I really have a choice right now? _Maybe_ if Grimmjow hadn't been kidnapped and I wasn't totally pressed for time, I could sit back and do this training thing the right way, but I can't. I have to cut corners and if you have a way for me to do that, I need to hear it. We've wasted enough time."

Urahara stood up and walked down an invisible set of stairs. There, he stalked over to the biggest boulder in the place and pressed a hand to it. A few seconds after that, the boulder glowed bright-green and a doorway sprang up on the side of it.

"Kurosaki-kun, if you'd please," the blond fairy said.

Ichigo stared in awe at the boulder before he shot an incredulous look at Urahara. "Uh, please what?"

"You wish to 'cut corners' as you say, so follow me. I'll show you what your father was talking about."

He stared at the boulder some more before finally shrugging and making his way over. He had no clue what he was getting himself into, but if it could help him save Grimmjow, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He stopped next to Urahara and gave him a cool glance.

"What's in there?" he asked.

Urahara smiled. "You, me, and nothing but time and space. You and Shinji watch Dragon Ball Z; think of this as that hyperbolic time chamber thing."

Ichigo chortled and shook his head in amusement. "Urahara, _you_ watch Dragon Ball Z."

With that, he stepped into the dark doorway. Cold air immediately blasted over his skin and tightened it as he took slow step after slow step, and when he glanced down, it looked like he was walking on thin ice that cracked every time his feet landed. Where the hell was he going now? He was definitely going to have to get used to all this magic and sorcery.

"Just keep walking, Kurosaki-kun," Urahara's voice floated from...everywhere at once, it seemed.

Ichigo shuddered and did as he was told, if only to get out of this eerie place. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked, and finally, after what seemed like forever, a bright circle of light appeared ahead of him. He hurried towards it, hoping for some type of heat. The icy chill in this place made his teeth chatter. Luckily, the light expanded and once he stepped through it, he took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of flowers and fresh grass. Balmy, Spring air swished around him and made him wish he wasn't there to risk his life. He wished things were different and that Grimmjow had never been kidnapped in the first place. In fact, he wished Grimmjow was there with him, enjoying the light fragrance and soothing ambiance. And then, Urahara appeared behind him, hand settling on his shoulder.

"This is the Shornen. It took me three years to create one in this dimension, but I'm glad I did. It'll be hard, Kurosaki-kun. I won't go easy on you."

Ichigo smiled down at his feet and nodded. He only had one concern, then. "What's the time frame lookin' like?"

Urahara smiled again. "Four months in here, one day out there. Do you think you can handle it?"

"No, I know I can," he stated confidently.

 _Grimm, I'm coming_.

XOXOXO

Shinji stared at the boulder Ichigo and Urahara had disappeared into. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience with everything that'd gone down. Nnoitra's life-threatening injury, Grimmjow's abduction, Ichigo's heritage...it all made his fucking head spin.

Back to the tall, dark-haired fairy, Nnoitra, though. He couldn't be moved from Shinji's bedroom, or else he'd die. His wound was so severe, the silver-haired fairy, Gin – also Urahara's nephew – had encountered difficulties trying to patch him up with his fairy hocus pocus. Nerve-wracking didn't even begin to describe his emotional state, watching the guy he liked a little more than a lot, lying in a pool of his own blood and slowly slipping away. It... Shinji shuddered and hung his head. He folded his hands in his lap and pressed his lips together, trying to will his mind away from that dark path. It wasn't working, though. Nnoitra had been so pale and quiet. And all that blood...

Shinji swallowed and glanced over at Ichigo's father, Isshin. Maybe if he turned his thoughts in that direction, it would ease the nausea in his gut. Maybe calm his nerves somewhat. He still couldn't get over the fact that not only was his adoptive father a fairy, but so was his best friend. They'd grown up together, played with each other as children and argued one another down as teens. As fully grown adults in college, they were no less close, especially as roommates, but now it felt like Shinji didn't even know the orange-haired guy. Ichigo seemed miles away, dealing with a heritage he'd had no idea of, either. When Shinji wasn't busy feeling bad for him, he was full of questions. If Ichigo was royalty like Grimmjow, did that mean the crazy brunet fairy wanted to kill him too? He didn't have to inquire about Ichigo's ears and super-strength since Urahara had tactfully revealed them the moment they'd stepped foot into their drastically altered basement, which Shinji hadn't even known existed. There was so much to wrap his mind around and it didn't seem to be any closer to happening now, than it had a week ago.

Then, there was the situation with Grimmjow. Shinji hadn't really expected Ichigo to flip out the way he had over the blue-haired fairy prince, but then again, he should've known better. He'd noticed from the very beginning the way Grimmjow'd trailed behind Ichigo, expression full of adoration. Hell, you'd have to be blind to have missed that. But as time had marched on, those looks ended up being reciprocated and seemed to grow more intense. And then, there was the night Grimmjow and Ichigo had consummated their feelings towards each other. Rather loudly, in fact. Shinji let a ghost of a smile curve his lips. He remembered Nnoitra rolling over in bed and grinning at him in the dark as they'd shamelessly eavesdropped. The headboard had made a deafening racket and the moaning... Well, suffice it to say both men had been _extremely_ pleased.

That just made the ache in his gut sharper. He thought of Nnoitra's wide, carefree grin, devilish violet eye and long, jet-black hair...and he missed him. What would he do if Nnoitra died? An abrupt urge to hide his face and sob attacked him, but he buried it. He was more concerned with why he felt that way. He liked Nnoitra, sure, but what they'd been doing had seemed purely sexual. He hadn't even liked the dark-haired fairy when they'd first met; not even after they'd first started having sex. The guy was crass, belligerent, overbearing, funny, loyal, passionate... Oh, OK. He got it, then. He'd gradually started liking Nnoitra, gradually started learning more about the alarmingly tall and skinny idiot.

He gripped his stomach and grimaced. Nnoitra couldn't die. He couldn't. He'd _better_ not.

"I'm hungryyyy," Shirosaki whined.

Shinji glanced over at the albino and shook his head. He'd never liked the guy because he always seemed to bother Ichigo, and then it turned out the reason for his harassment was because he was Ichigo's fucking bodyguard, as was Ichigo's English professor. It was a total mind-screw.

"Ah, I'm sure Kisuke has something in his apartment," Isshin stated cheerfully, although his eyes were anything but. Shinji was sure the elder Kurosaki was worried about his son...who was a fairy prince.

"Yeah, but it ain't edible," Shinji put in. Just the thought of Urahara's cooking was enough to make his nausea worse. "I think we got somethin' in our apartment, though."

He climbed to his feet and tapped his way down the invisible stairs leading from the bench he'd been sitting on. He still had yet to figure that one out. Where the hell had the stairs come from, and how come he didn't fall down them if he couldn't see them? Gave him a headache thinking about it. He reached the ground and made his way to the very visible metal staircase off to the left side of the room. He didn't say a word, but he didn't need to, either. The rag-tag group followed behind him and trooped up the stairs behind him. They silently made their way to Shinji's apartment, where Nnoitra still lay, fighting for his life. Once he made it inside, it was ridiculously hard not to veer off towards his room to check on the dark-haired fairy. However, he managed to keep course and shuffle into the kitchen. After a deep, fortifying breath, he snatched open the fridge and looked around. Well, there was nothing in there that looked interesting, so he moved on to the freezer. Bingo. A large bag of fish sticks and another bag of french fries rested on the top shelf. He could hook that up, no problem.

Normally, he left all the gourmet cooking to Ichigo because...well, because he didn't have a choice. He sucked at fixing anything more complicated than ramen, and luckily, the fish sticks and french fries came with directions on the bag. He glanced around the suddenly crowded kitchen and lifted an eyebrow.

"Any objections?" he asked as he held the bags into the air. Head-shakes all around. "Good."

Shinji set the oven to four-fifty and rooted through the bottom cabinets for a couple of pans, mind still buzzing frantically. His life had officially been tipped onto its side and he had no idea how to go about righting it at the moment.

XOXOXO

He slit his eyes open and glanced around at his quarters. He was surrounded by white. More white than the throne room, which was probably one hell of an accomplishment. The walls were white and so was the floor. It was nauseating. He turned his head and noticed a door that led to another white room. He remembered that one; that was where he'd been bathed. It only stuck in his brain because the experience had been excruciating. His back... God, his back twinged whenever he moved, but thankfully, Aizen's little pink-haired minion had applied some type of healing salve to it and bandaged it up, which diminished the pain greatly. However, before the blessed ointment had been given, he'd had to endure a trial he would not soon forget, that was for certain.

Grimmjow lay on his stomach, no longer hungry after being fed and given water to drink. He no longer felt inhuman from wallowing in his own stench after having a bath, but he did still feel stinging humiliation, even though he was clothed. Speaking of his clothes, he'd forgone the short, black and white jacket Aizen had provided, instead opting to rest in only the strange pants. Thankfully, they hung low on his hips and gave relief to his sore lower back. He sighed gently, not wanting to disturb the muscles in his back working overtime to heal themselves.

Now that he didn't feel like he was on the brink of death, he had time to think about things more carefully. How was he going to leave this place? Aizen didn't seem fond of the idea, and without his birthright, Pantera, there was no way Grimmjow could escape. The brunet fairy had too many men at his disposal. In fact, there was probably a guard outside his quarters right now – not that he was needed. Grimmjow was too weak to even consider escape at this point. Maybe if Aizen kept up the generous behavior. It stung his pride, of course, but Grimmjow had much more on his mind than himself. He wanted to see Ichigo again. He wanted to show Ichigo everything about the Fae, but most of all, he wanted to tell Ichigo how he felt about him. He'd be strong. Outwardly, he would be the picture of submission, but inwardly, where it truly mattered right now, he would grasp his dignity and hold on tight, while formulating a way out of the madhouse Aizen referred to as Las Noches. He had to, or he would lose his sanity.

Two slow, almost sad-sounding knocks emanated from the door, making his head twist around to try and glimpse his visitor. Unfortunately, the way his bed was positioned, he only had a view of the wall behind it and whatever was directly to his left and right.

"A-Aizen-sama wishes to see you, Prince," a soft tenor spoke.

Ice raced down Grimmjow's back and panic gripped him with painful claws. What did the fairy want now? Was it more punishment? He swallowed harshly as he fought wave after wave of terrified nausea. He'd done nothing wrong; hell, he hadn't even had a chance to do anything wrong. What could possibly warrant the necessity of his presence? _Calm down_ , he coached himself. Maybe Aizen just wanted to issue a new batch of rules he was to follow. Nodding to himself, he very slowly sat up, wincing the entire time. The bandages stretched across his raw back shifted and made him grit his teeth painfully. And he had to put that jacket on over this? That itself was like torture. He finally glanced over at the voice that had spoken and found a waifish-looking fairy with short, bright purple hair and wide, innocent, deep-violet eyes. He was dressed head to toe in a white trimmed with black robe.

"I-I'm to take you there," he continued.

Grimmjow nodded around another wince as he climbed to his feet. There he sluggishly shuffled over to the foot of his bed, where that stupid jacket lay draped over a small trunk. The trunk was white too and contained more of the clothing he wore. Growling, he grabbed the jacket and slipped into it. Fortunately, the thing was short and only reached the middle of his back, but he hated wearing it at all. It didn't sit well with him wearing clothing that represented Aizen, but endure it, he would. If it won him a chance at freedom, he would do it without hesitation.

After he had the jacket on, he edged his way to the smaller fairy and waited for his cue. The door opened and they both stepped into the wide, white hall. No surprise there. Grimmjow really wondered what Aizen's fascination with the color white was. It was annoying as hell.

As they made their way to the throne room, no doubt, Grimmjow let his mind wander to the orange-haired spitfire he'd fallen in love with. He let a small smile curve his lips as he thought about the boy, as he recalled their last night together. He'd finally lost his virginity, only to be caught unaware and taken hostage. And for what? Because Aizen wanted him as his very own Elorian pet? Not going to happen. He would die before he let that deranged fairy put his hands on him in a romantic fashion; that role was reserved for Ichigo alone. He was in the middle of recalling the soft texture of Ichigo's lips and his reassuring embrace, when the double doors to the throne room loomed before him. He turned to the fairy leading him and tilted his head to the side.

"Can you tell me what he wants?"

"I-I don't know, Prince. B-but even if I did, I wouldn't be allowed. T-talking this much is forbidden," the fairy whispered, violet eyes huge.

"OK," Grimmjow said, not wanting to get him in trouble.

The doors opened up, but before Grimmjow could step through them, another fairy with green eyes appeared beside him. He bristled angrily. He remembered this asshole; he'd been there when Aizen had made his presence known back at Ichigo's apartment.

"You will follow me," he ordered in a monotone voice.

Grimmjow's immediate reaction was to snap at him with disdain, but he remembered his place at the last second. In Las Noches, Aizen was ruler, and unless Grimmjow wanted a reminder of all the pain he'd been put through very recently, he'd be smart to keep his mouth shut. So, with that in mind, he followed the shorter, dark-haired fairy into the throne room, mind twirling about dangerously. He really wanted to know what Aizen wanted.


	14. Time For War

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Aizen loomed before Grimmjow like an ominous guillotine. It was nerve-wracking at best. The way the arrogant man sat atop his perch was similar to a king on his throne – except Aizen was no one's king. Grimmjow refused to accept it. He slowly made his way towards the grand structure and stood at the bottom of it. He held his head up, but didn't quite meet the other fairy's cruel, brown eyes. He couldn't. Grimmjow still remembered the immense pain he'd endured not too long before at the hands of that very being.

Aizen smiled down at Grimmjow as he rested his right elbow on the arm of the throne and his chin in his palm. "You look much better."

Grimmjow didn't know what to say, so he remained silent, hoping whatever it was Aizen wanted had nothing to do with more agony.

"Come sit beside me, my beautiful prince."

Grimmjow wanted to cringe at the words for several reasons. For one thing, when Aizen's voice went all soft and quiet that way, pain usually followed right behind. Another reason had to be because the fairy only had one throne on high, meaning, there was no room for two. That left Grimmjow with disturbing thoughts of where the hell he would fit. Did Aizen want him in the same seat? Or... _Please, no_ , he inwardly begged. He'd sit on the floor with a smile before he sat on the crazy and deranged fairy's lap. But the man had said beside him, so maybe he meant on the floor. Hell, even that was more acceptable than what his mind was currently cooking up. Grimmjow crept a few steps ahead, pausing when the dark-haired fairy from earlier cleared his throat.

"Yes, Ulquiorra?" Aizen questioned.

Grimmjow glanced at the brunet fairy before turning back to the dark-haired one with the huge, somber, emerald-green eyes. Ulquiorra went to one knee and lowered his head.

"I have news, Sir."

"I'm listening."

Grimmjow stood transfixed as he watched the two speaking. He wondered what was going on, but more than that, he wished he could just return to his new room. It was infinitely better than waiting for the ax to drop onto his neck.

"The sorcerer has indicated the existence of a group of survivors from the fall of the clans."

Silence seemed to descend like a dark cloud over the room. Even Grimmjow was stunned by the report. Survivors? Was that what Kisuke had been talking about back in the human realm? If so, then that meant he wasn't really the last of his clan. A rush of warmth spread through his gut as he continued to watch Aizen and Ulquiorra.

There was still hope for his people!

"Is that so?" Aizen finally asked, voice hinting at surprise, but filled with more irritation than anything. "And where are they?"

Ulquiorra raised his head and locked eyes with Aizen. "Hiding somewhere along the outskirts of Eloria."

"Ah. I see."

Dread began to overwhelm Grimmjow at the look on Aizen's face. There was a certain streak of hatred that was leaking through, and it made Grimmjow shift with unease. More than anything, he wished that there was something he could do. Suddenly, the pressure in the room increased until Grimmjow was forced to his knees. He could barely lift his head high enough to glimpse the brunet fairy, who was on his feet and descending the throne stairs. Grimmjow's breathing picked up as Aizen strode closer and closer. When the fairy was within arm's reach, Grimmjow lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut, fearing the worst. Fortunately, nothing happened. Aizen continued past him until he reached the throne room doors. There, he paused and glanced over his shoulder at the dark-haired fairy, still in his subservient position.

"Come with me, Ulquiorra. We have work that must be done." Aizen paused, possibly for dramatic flair before speaking again. "I will see to you later, my sweet prince."

Grimmjow was grateful for the level of pressure in the room that kept him from being able to speak. His old fire was stoking, and he was certain that he would have sealed his fate with unwise words towards the brunet fairy. Thankfully, Aizen left the throne room, taking his nearly unbearable pressure with him. Grimmjow gasped as air filled his lungs in a rush, making him dizzy, his vision blurring and his stomach heaving with upset. He was flooded with relief that Aizen's focus had been diverted from himself, but he was also overtaken by anxiety and impending doom. What did this mean for his surviving people? Of course, he had an idea, but the thought of so many more fairies dying at the hand of the cruel brunet had his stomach churning even harder. Why couldn't he be stronger? Why couldn't he have grabbed Pantera before confronting Aizen? So much regret and guilt washed over him that it was once again hard to breathe.

The smaller fairy from earlier came to a stop beside Grimmjow and offered him a hand. Grimmjow glanced up at him warily, but accepted the help as he climbed shakily to his feet. What was he supposed to _do_? What _could_ he do? There was no way he could fight Aizen in his current state, and even if he could, Aizen had too many followers, who were sure to cut down Grimmjow before he could even manage to get close to the powerful fairy. Tears stung his eyes as he thought of his parents and his people. They hadn't deserved the fate that had befallen them.

What could he _do_?

"I'll take you back to your quarters, Prince."

Grimmjow gave the slighter fairy at his side another look, this one grateful. "Thank you," he said quietly.

As they left the throne room, Grimmjow thought about the things Kisuke had told him as well as the very disturbing idea that Nnoitra had given him. What if Ichigo really was the Eieren heir, and his father the Eieren King? He knew what it meant if it were in fact true. The traditions and customs of their world didn't allow for two males to come together romantically. In fact, in the ancient times, those who _had_ had been put to death. It was a severe consequence for an act that was thought to be despicable. Grimmjow clenched his teeth together as his heart ached right along with his back. Even if there was a miniscule chance that he'd see Ichigo again, there was no way that they could be together as they had in the other dimension. Not only that, but Grimmjow had to worry about Aizen's nefarious plans. Obviously, the brunet had no worries of what their people would think of the union Aizen had in mind. Especially if one considered the lengths the fairy had gone to by getting rid of their kind.

And who was to say that Ichigo was the heir to the Eieren throne? Nnoitra might have just been grasping at straws in order to make sense of the baffling information Kisuke had given them. _And of course_ , Grimmjow thought. _I may never see Ichigo again_. He lowered his head as he and the smaller fairy continued to the room Aizen had assigned him. As much as he wanted to see Ichigo, wanted to hold him in his arms and kiss him, make love to him, there was just no way it would happen. Sadness threatened to weigh down his steps, but Grimmjow decided that he would look at the bright side of this mess. At least he'd had the chance to experience love. At least he'd had the chance to give himself, as well as his heart, to a man who seemed to truly care about him at the time.

 _I don't regret a thing_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo gripped his right upper arm as he held himself up against a nearby tree. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, but the more air he took into his lungs, the more they caught fire and burned. He gasped and fought against a bout of trembling. He was dead tired and sore to boot, but he refused to quit. This must have been what his father had been trying to warn him about. He and Urahara had been going at it for what felt like forever now, and his body had long ago begun protesting his persistence. But he couldn't stop. He just couldn't. Grimmjow was still in the hands of that crazed asshole, and Ichigo was determined to see to the brutal fairy's speedy demise. Just as his legs threatened to give out on him, the sound of metal singing through the air made a burst of energy shoot through the weakened muscles. He leaped out of the way of Urahara's blade that crashed into the spot he'd been resting, embedding itself into the rough bark of the tree.

"Fuck!" he hissed after rolling into a crouch.

He wasn't sure he could take much more of this. What was the purpose of all of this fighting? He didn't seem to be gaining any extra power. In fact, if anything, he was merely learning how to dodge Urahara's attacks a little better each time. But that knowledge hadn't come freely. He'd earned a bunch of cuts, scrapes, bruises and lumps in the process. Yet, his fighting technique wasn't progressing at all. While Urahara was busy extracting his sword from the tree, Ichigo climbed to his feet and glared at the blond.

"Urahara!" he snapped. "What the fuck is this supposed to accomplish aside from making me hurt all over?"

Urahara yanked his blade free and leveled Ichigo with a weighty stare. As the two locked eyes, Urahara traced a small circle in the soft ground with the tip of his sword. Finally, after a few long moments, the fairy spoke.

"Why do you want to fight?"

Ichigo frowned. "What?"

"Why...do you want...to fight? It's not hard, Ichigo-kun."

"I thought that was obvious? I have to help Grimmjow."

"Then you must defeat me. It's the only way."

"But I'm not getting stronger!"

Instead of speaking, Urahara lashed out towards Ichigo with his sword, a gust of red energy cutting a path in the dirt between them. Ichigo's eyes widened as he leaped out of the way.

"What the fuck was that, Urahara?! Are you trying to kill me?!"

Again Urahara gave him a heavy stare. "Yes. You will never be able to save Grimmjow if you can't defeat me, and the only way to defeat me is by using your birthright to your advantage. Once you released its power, you've been neglectful. _That_ is why you're struggling. _That_ is why you've seen no progress in your strength. If Grimmjow could see you now, he would laugh."

Heat instantly engulfed Ichigo. The hand around the hilt of his sword tightened as he gritted his teeth. He'd never been so angry in his life, but Urahara was right. If Grimmjow could see how weak and pitiful Ichigo was right now, he would most certainly find it amusing. Rage developed within him at a frightening speed and was close to swallowing him whole, until he spotted a small smirk forming across Urahara's face.

"That's more like it," the blond said. "Come at me with all you've got. I won't take it easy on you, Ichigo-kun, Eieren prince or not."

Ichigo happened to glance down at his right arm where a gash had been and was astonished to find that it was gone. Not only that, but there was a black chain snaking its way up his arm from the hilt of his blade. As he eyed the chain, he realized that his aches and pains from only seconds before were disappearing, leaving pure adrenaline in its wake. And then, things got even weirder because he started to glow an eery mixture of black and blood red.

"Wh-what's happening?!" he shouted.

" _You are my master. Use me_ ," a voice whispered.

"Urahara?!"

A gust of wind that belonged in a tornado seemed to spiral up from the ground itself before Ichigo was blinded by a bright, white light. And just as suddenly as the flare had appeared, it was gone, leaving Ichigo with a deep sense of peace and understanding. He raised his arm and stared at the black blade in his hand.

"I get it, now...Zangetsu."

When he turned his attention to Urahara, the blond fairy was grinning joyfully. He didn't speak, however. He just lifted a hand and crooked his fingers in a "come at me" gesture. Ichigo nodded. In two fluid wrist movements, his sword was twirled into battle position as he lunged at Urahara. He appeared before the startled blond in the blink of an eye, but Urahara managed to recover in time to block the downward arc of Ichigo's blade.

On the outside, Ichigo was the picture of calm, but inwardly, he was shocked and excited. He felt like a feather, which had to be why his speed had increased so dramatically. Not only that, but he felt like he could knock down the Tokyo Tower with one swing. Whether it was just confidence in his birthright, or whether he really had that much strength was still yet to be seen. At any rate, he felt like he was ten steps closer to saving his beloved.

XOXOXO

"How long?" Gin growled through clenched teeth.

The pale-haired man on the screen in Gin's uncle's bedroom sighed, his expression filled with helplessness. "Two days. Three the most, but that's pushing it."

It was Gin's turn to sigh. This kind of news couldn't have come at a worse time. Not only was his uncle busy in an entirely separate environment, but how could such a desperate situation be resolved? Gin ran a hand through his silver fringe as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Aizen knew. Jyuushiro Ukitake's spy had returned from Aizen's fortress with dreadful information. Somehow or another, the sorcerer working for Aizen had discovered the existence of the survivors of the fall of the clans. Now, it was almost certain that the brunet fairy planned to move and destroy what was left of their race. Gin couldn't tolerate that, and he was sure that the rest of the fairies in this dimension would feel the same. But there was a fly in the ointment. What were they supposed to do with thousands of surviving fairies? How could they hide so many-

Gin's eyes flew open as he stared at Jyuushiro in open-mouthed shock. "I have an idea," he breathed.

Jyuushiro tilted his head, a glint forming in those deep brown irises. "I'm listening."

"Gather all of the survivors and lead them to Celestial Mountain. On the path, there will be a fork. Take the right path until you reach the Jade Cave. Inside, I will meet you there. Do it now! The trip should take no more than a day, which leaves me very little time to prepare another Garganta."

"What are you thinking, young Ichimaru?"

"My uncle – Kisuke – he has a cavernous space that will easily hide our people. I just need to go there in order to gather the reiatsu and form a Garganta. I already have a sample of the Jade Cave, which will make things easier for me on this side to create the gateway between our worlds. Hurry, Jyuushiro!"

The pale-haired man nodded and the screen went dark. Gin rushed to his feet and out of his uncle's apartment. He had to grab his supplies from his cousin's home before going back to the training grounds beneath them. He had no time to waste.

That damned Aizen.

XOXOXO

Shinji placed a cool cloth along Nnoitra's brow. He was burning up with fever, and Shinji was starting to fear the worst. Gin had told him that all Nnoitra needed to do now was rest, and his recovery would be solely based on his strength of spirit. Shinji knew that Nnoitra was a strong bastard, but would he be able to come back from such a severe injury? Who knew?

Shinji stared at the tall fairy, his stomach churning with unease and fear. Nnoitra's ink black hair was all over the pillow, tangled and dry, while his skin was pale and pasty. His lips were chapped, and there were dark circles under his shut eyes. Truth be told, he looked like he was already dead.

"I wish you would just wake up already. Stubborn asshole," Shinji muttered.

He was hoping that Nnoitra would hear him and snap back like he normally did. There was nothing. Just the shallow breaths that assured Shinji that the fairy was at the very least still alive.

After a few more moments of quiet sitting, Shinji sighed and climbed to his feet. He couldn't take the waiting, the not knowing. It was driving him crazy. How strange that he'd find a companion in such a brash person. Nnoitra was as crass as they came, but Shinji wouldn't change the man for anything in the world. He _liked_ Nnoitra that way. He moved as close to the bed as he could get without actually touching it before bending at the waist and dropping a soft kiss to the clammy forehead.

"You better not die on me."

He left the bedroom, heart feeling as though it weighed a ton. This entire situation was just screwed up. He still didn't know what to make of his father being a fairy. Ichigo too. It was so shocking that it was damned near debilitating. The night Nnoitra, Grimmjow and Neliel had shown up in their apartment seemed so long ago. Grudgingly, Shinji had to admit that the trio had become like family. Especially Grimmjow. Shinji had never seen Ichigo look so happy for as long as he'd known the guy, and if the blue-haired fairy was the cause of it, then Shinji fully supported Ichigo's choice to go and rescue him from the clutches of that deranged-

"Shinji?"

Shinji paused in his trek to the living room as he acknowledged Grimmjow's green-haired sister. She was staring at him, big gray eyes wide with uncertainty and a hint of fear.

"Are you OK?"

It wasn't until he sniffed that he realized tears were tracking down the sides of his face. Was Nnoitra's predicament really affecting him to that degree? He wiped the moisture from his face and tried to smile through the bleakness he felt.

"I'm fine, Nel. Are _you_ alright?"

She eyed him for a little longer before shadows seemed to creep into her gaze. She focused on the floor and shook her head.

"I'm scared for my brother. What if he's already dead?"

"Don't think like that. I know it's easier to fear the worst, but you just have to be strong. That's all we _can_ do until Ichigo goes to bring him back."

"But nothing is ever that easy! Look at what happened to my parents and my people! They're all dead!"

Shinji didn't know what to do. Nel was becoming hysterical, tears flowing freely from her eyes. He'd never been good at dealing with girls, and certainly not crying ones. He held up his hands as if to physically ward off her tears as he edged closer.

"Nel, please don't cry."

"This is so _unfair_! Why did this have to happen to us?"

Thankfully, Shinji didn't get a chance to reply. Isshin gently grasped Nel's shoulders and turned her to face him. She immediately fell into his chest and dissolved into broken sobs.

"I just want my family back! I just want things to go back to how they were!"

"I understand," Isshin murmured. "No one really knows why these things happen, but we can only make the best of it. Are you not still alive? Do you not still have people here who care for you?"

Nel nodded as she clung to Isshin's shirt. Shinji huffed a breath of relief as the elder Kurosaki steered the young woman towards the living room with one last empathetic glance over the shoulder. Maybe Shinji wouldn't go to the sitting room, after all. He decided to enter Ichigo's room, where he figured he would have more peace and quiet without the stress of watching the man he loved struggle for his life.

The room smelled like a combination of his best friend and Grimmjow. The bed covers were still thrown aside and Ichigo still had clothes strewn across his dresser. Shinji trudged over to the bed and plopped down onto it before lowering his face to his hands. He was emotionally exhausted. There was so much that he had to understand, but he felt like he was no closer to doing so than when he'd first heard all the new information.

XOXOXO

Ichigo took a deep breath and looked around his beautiful surroundings. His hair had grown down to his shoulders, a long fringe almost covering his right eye. He'd gotten a lot more muscular and he felt so at peace, it was almost wrong in his eyes. But it was all for a greater purpose, he kept telling himself. He was prepared for the worst, but expecting the best. He was going to get Grimmjow back.

He glanced over his shoulder at an approaching Urahara, who was wearing a soft smile that spoke volumes.

"Time to go, yes?" he asked quietly.

Ichigo nodded and touched the hilt of his birthright. "Let's go."

Urahara nodded in return and stepped past him. His head swung back and forth briefly before settling on a nearby tree. He limped over to it and brought up his sword, tapping the bark with the sharp tip. Ichigo watched as the middle of the tree transformed into a swirling, dark void, a blast of icy cold air whooshing from within. He moved close to the void and inspected it before turning to Urahara with an eyebrow arched.

"Ready?"

"After you, Ichigo-kun."

Ichigo stepped into the void full of confidence and certainty. He felt more than anxious to take on that brown-haired fairy who'd stolen the one person he cared for the most at the moment. That was simply taboo and had to be corrected. He wouldn't stand for otherwise. As he entered the dark space, cold air seemed to wrap around his entire body, trying to paralyze his limbs, but he forged forward. His steps were lighter than when he'd first gone through this vacuum-like space, so the image of cracked ice beneath his feet wasn't as severe. In fact, it merely resembled tiny spider webs. That had to be a good sign, a sign of his progress. He smiled as he walked, hand resting on the hilt of his sword again. He wasn't that same weakling Aizen had pushed around before, and he couldn't wait to prove it.

A light ahead signaled they were coming to the end of the dark corridor. Ichigo wondered what his father would say upon seeing him. Shinji? Shiro? Even Byakuya would have to be impressed with how far he'd come. After a fierce battle, he'd finally managed to defeat Urahara by disarming the blond and pinning him to the very same tree they'd exited through. He didn't want to boast, but even Urahara himself had said that it was an accomplishment worth being proud of. Ichigo agreed.

When he cleared the darkness and stepped into the light, he looked around, squinting. He felt like he'd been gone forever, while in reality, only a day had passed in the real world. After his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, his eyes bulged almost out of his head. Behind him, he heard Urahara's fan flap into place.

"Oh my," he mumbled.

Ichigo couldn't believe his eyes. Had they gone to the wrong location? But no, that couldn't be right. They were definitely in the cavernous underground area Urahara had shown them before he'd gone for his special training. However...

"What the hell did we miss?"

Urahara pulled a small strange-looking pocket watch from his robes and hummed in obvious thought. "Well...it seems as though I miscalculated the time we would be inside of the Shornen. It appears as though two days have passed in this world."

"But how does that explain... _this_?" Ichigo asked incredulously, gesturing towards the huge number of people milling about.

They were dressed in clothing similar to what Grimmjow, Nnoitra and Nel had been wearing when Ichigo and Shinji had first found them in their apartment. Not only that, but they also had weird hair coloring, and they had those infamous pointy ears that were tell-tale signs of their heritage. Ichigo didn't know what to think. In two days' time, they'd acquired a staggering amount of guests, but how they had all come to be there was the big question.

Suddenly, Urahara's silver-haired nephew strode over to them, face flushed and ice-blue eyes slitted apart. He bowed after coming to a stop before them, and it only reminded Ichigo of his status with the fairies. He was technically a prince. Just like Grimmjow.

"Uncle. There has been a disturbing development in Faery."

Urahara took his time looking around at all of the fairies milling about. Some had even come to a stop and were staring at him and Ichigo. Which probably made sense since they had just emerged from what appeared to be a harmless boulder.

"I think the saying goes 'stating the obvious,' Nephew."

"I apologize, Uncle. I panicked without your guidance, but this was the only solution I could come up with."

"What happened?"

Ichigo's gaze shifted back and forth between the two men, curiosity peaked. What was Gin talking about? Did it have to do with Aizen? Was Grimmjow OK? His hands were beginning to grow clammy and his nerves were all over the place. He needed answers, and he needed them now.

Gin sighed, but before he could answer, a tall man with blazing white hair approached them. He had on long white robes and dark, armored boots. His expression was kind and patient, and he reminded Ichigo of that kid that had appeared out of nowhere, trying to warn them of the imminent danger Aizen had presented. The man stopped beside Gin and gave Urahara a warm smile.

"It's been a while, Kisuke."

Urahara grinned back and nodded. "Yes, it has. How are you faring, Jyuushiro?"

_Who now?_

"I am well. Although, I could be better."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Ichigo held up a hand. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I don't really think we have time for niceties. What's going on? Why are there so many fairies here? And who _are_ you?"

Jyuushiro turned to Ichigo with an understanding smile and nodded. "You're right, young prince. I am Jyuushiro Ukitake. I am Kisuke's informant from Faery, and also the former adviser to the Roande royal family."

"Roande?" Ichigo parroted. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"It was the clan that was almost entirely destroyed during The Great Betrayal. The clan that Aizen is from and for which he is determined to seek revenge," Urahara answered.

"Oh. Well, what are you doing here now? What exactly is going on?"

Gin spoke up this time. "Jyuushiro contacted me and told me that Aizen had become aware of the existence of the survivors of the fall of the clans. We had no other choice but to hide them here."

 _Ohhhhhhh_ , Ichigo thought. _Now that makes a lot more sense_.

"Will he still be able to find them? I mean, he found Grimmjow," Ichigo stated.

"I had considered that upon creating the new Garganta in this location. I found a way to erase the residual reiatsu left by the Garganta. I'm assuming that was how Aizen's sorcerer was able to locate the Elorian prince in the first place," Gin replied.

"So, now you understand why there are so many of us here. We no longer had a place to run to in Faery," Jyuushiro said.

Ichigo wondered if he was the only with this question on his mind. "Is Grimmjow OK?" he asked quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

And for a while, no one did respond, which only made Ichigo's insides go cold with dread and fear. Was he too late? God, he hoped not.

"Someone answer me."

Jyuushiro cleared his throat, and when Ichigo stared him down, he realized the older fairy wore a confused expression.

"You sound as if you have a personal investment in the Elorian prince's well-being."

Ichigo fought a blush as his jaws clenched together. He, in fact, _did_ have a very personal investment in Grimmjow's well-being. He loved him, and if that Aizen asshole had hurt him, there would be hell to pay.

"I do."

Jyuushiro arched a brow, but didn't probe any further. He sighed and ran a hand through his long hair.

"My spy in Aizen's fortress told me disturbing news before we made the trip here."

Ichigo's stomach fell to his knees. Grimmjow was dead. Heat surged within him, and he didn't even realize that his power was billowing around him. He didn't notice the awed stares he was receiving from surrounding fairies; all he knew was a sharp, stinging pain. He was too late. He'd been unable to save the man he loved in time. He would never be able to forgive himself. Tears were prickling at the backs of his eyes until Jyuushiro finally spoke again.

"The prince was severely beaten and tortured, but he _is_ alive. Fear not, young warrior."

The air around him slowly settled down as Ichigo digested the information. So, Grimmjow wasn't dead. He wanted to feel relief, but hearing that his lover had been beaten and tortured has his blood boiling all over again.

"I need to go there. _Now_ ," he stressed.

"No doubt about it," Ichigo's father stated as he sidled into view.

Byakuya, Shiro, Shinji and Nel followed behind him, faces set and determined.

"We're comin' wit' ya, King," Shiro said.

Byakuya was silent, but the look in his violet eyes spoke for him. He was clearly going as well. When Ichigo's eyes found Nel's, he instantly felt bad. How could he tell her that her going wasn't a good idea. For one, she was the Elorian princess, and two, she was rather young. And more specifically, he didn't want Grimmjow to kill him for bringing his only family along, where she could be in danger as well.

"Nel," he started.

"Don't worry, Ichigo. I'm not going. I know Brother would be furious with me. Just make sure you bring him back safely, please," she interrupted.

Ichigo smiled as he nodded. That was one thing he planned to do, come hell or high water. No one hurt the people he loved.


	15. We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onward...

XOXOXO

"Where are they?" Aizen growled as he made a slow circle in the cavernous, yet empty space. "You told me that they would be here."

The pink-haired sorcerer scowled as he too turned in place and surveyed the location. He shook his head, clearly baffled by what he saw. Aizen was already short on patience, and this setback was sorely irking him. He really wanted to return to Las Noches and continue breaking in his Elorian prince. However, the news of survivors of the fall of the clans had sent his blood pressure sky rocketing.

"I don't understand," Szayel muttered. "I saw them with my own eyes. They were _here_."

Aizen absently brushed aside the lock of hair that hung over his forehead. He thought about snorting and ridding himself of the sorcerer once and for all, but decided otherwise. So far in his endeavors, Szayel had proven himself useful in one way or another. Aizen was also positive that the efforts were done purposely. A niggling though kept worming its way into his mind that the sorcerer had something up his sleeve that he had yet to reveal. The notion kept Aizen on his toes, his awareness at an all-time high.

"Yes, well, as you can see, they are no longer _here_. The question is: where did they go?" He paused and grinned at a fretting Szayel, unable to keep himself from rubbing salt in the sorcerer's wound. " _If_ they were even _here_ to begin with."

The poisonous look he received, only further confirmed within his mind that the sorcerer held ill intentions towards him. As quick as the look had appeared, it vanished the same. Szayel folded his hands behind his back and gave a benign smile.

"I can assure you, Aizen _Sir_ , that the survivors were here. If one only _concentrated_ hard enough, one would be able to detect the residual reiatsu they left behind."

The fairy's following smile made Aizen long to remove that pink head from the neck it was attached to. The syrupy sweet words were soaked with sarcasm. Aizen resisted the urge to lash out carelessly; instead, he returned the sorcerer's grin and heated stare. There was an obvious lack of love lost between the two.

"Aizen Sir, if I may?" Tousen asked as he stepped forward. Glad for the interruption, Aizen faced his faithful right hand and nodded. "There is a more pressing matter to be dealt with. The palace guards have alerted me that intruders have infiltrated the grounds."

Aizen felt rage tingling in his veins, even as he smiled and nodded. Why was his power continuously put to the test? It always took a grotesque display of force in order to win submission. Yet, his inner sadist couldn't help but to feel utter excitement at the opportunity to spill more blood.

"Intruders, you say?"

Tousen nodded, his body taut with anticipation. Aizen sighed as he strode past Szayel, whose mustard-hued eyes never left Aizen's form. Once again, there was much work to be done: an Elorian prince needed to be stained with his lust, and a group of worthless intruders needed to be taught a lesson.

Oh, how he looked forward to it.

XOXOXO

Toshiro couldn't keep his eyes off of the tall, snowy-haired fairy conversing with Urahara. He couldn't ignore the glaring coincidence that kept smacking him around. So far, he'd seen _hundreds_ of fairies, but only _one_ shared his hair color. And how could he look past the fact that his own mother had had hair the color of spun onyx? That alone let him know that he'd inherited his father's tresses. There was no other possible explanation.

He crept behind a boulder, trying to remain anonymous in his staring, but also trying to get closer to the tall, almost regal-looking fairy. Was this his father? Was this the Jyuushiro his mother had told him about? If it was, how could he approach him? What would he say? He was beyond intimidated. Besides, the fairy was deep in conversation with the King and prince of Eieren, and the scientist and his nephew. How could he just walk over and interrupt what appeared to be incredibly important? He was so caught up in his worried thoughts and misgivings when a deep voice scared him half to death.

"There's no need to hide."

Toshiro whirled around and came face-to-face with the tall, white-haired fairy. His head whipped back to where the imposing figure had just been standing, only to find him gone. When had he moved? Toshiro was baffled, but sheepishly faced him again.

"I-Im sorry. I didn't want to intrude."

"You have her eyes," the man said softly.

Toshiro almost choked up. "Y-you know my mother?"

The fairy smiled. "Of course. She never told me she was pregnant, but I'd guessed from her hasty departure during the fall of the clans. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have stayed."

"S-so you are my father."

"Yes. It's nice to finally meet you. What is your name?"

Toshiro wiped his eyes, embarrassed that he was even crying to begin with. "T-Toshiro."

"I'm J-"

"Jyuushiro. My mother told me."

"Ah, that makes this easier, then, no? Why don't you take a walk with me. We can get know one another, and I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

For the life of him, Toshiro couldn't think of one. He may have had tons beforehand, but being confronted by his actual father was enough to steal any coherent thought. He smiled and nodded, allowing the taller fairy to usher him away from his hiding spot.

XOXOXO

Ichigo watched as Gin opened up what he called "La Garganta" with wide eyes. This was exactly what he'd seen when that evil fairy had come and snatched away Grimmjow. It was funny how something that appeared to be so simple could do so much. He didn't care, though. As long as it led him to his lover, he would follow it into Hell. He grimaced at the pitch black space before sticking his head into it.

"Hello?" he called.

His voice echoed back at him before he pulled away from the void. He turned to his father, and then to Urahara, who was watching him with a gaze full of amusement.

"Did anyone answer?" he asked coyly.

Ichigo scowled at him and shook his head. That was when Isshin stepped forward and gripped the sword at his side. Everyone had changed into formal Faery gear, which looked good on the rest of them, but Ichigo felt awkward in his own. He felt like Robin Hood in the black, form-fitting pants and black, sleeveless top. The black boots were even weirder. They felt hard as steel to the touch, but fit his feet like a soft, leather glove. His sword was strapped to his back, and he was ready to face whatever he might encounter. Knowing that he was risking his life didn't change his headfirst approach, either. He was going to save Grimmjow, come Hell or high water.

"So...this is it, huh?" he asked.

"Be brave, my son," Isshin stated with a hand on Ichigo's shoulder.

Ichigo snorted. "You don't have to tell me that."

With that, he leaped into the void, not knowing what to expect. Once he was inside, however, the darkness seemed to swallow him up.

"Jeez, someone should turn on a light or somethin'," he grumbled. He turned back to the opening and waited for the others to climb through. Once they were all gathered around, he shifted in place. "Now what?"

Gin's airy voice floated up to him. "Jus' be patient."

After a second or two of complete darkness, the void split apart, revealing an open landscape filled with white sand a few pitiful-looking trees. They had no leaves, and the branches looked like twigs with claws. Where the hell were they?

"What is this place? It's creepy," he said with a shudder.

Nothing seemed to move, not even the air around them. Not only that, but it was dark, the only light emitting from a crescent moon. Ichigo sniffed and was astounded to smell things he couldn't even identify. Everything seemed enhanced.

"This is Las Noches," Gin answered. "Aizen created a land of desolation and a grand palace for himself. His servants are his prisoners, and there are only a handful who follow him willingly."

"Sounds like a great guy," Ichigo muttered as he adjusted his sword strap. "Well, no sense standing around. Where to, Oz?"

Gin shot him a blank look, while Shiro cackled from behind. "We go to the white structure directly ahead. I'm sure that is where Aizen is holding the prince hostage."

Ichigo huffed as he stared into the distance at the pale building looming on the horizon. "Alrighty. Off we go."

The walk was silent, each left to his own thoughts. Ichigo especially. He was worried sick about Grimmjow, hoping that that asshole fairy hadn't hurt him too badly. The fact that he'd been hurt at all was enough to have Ichigo's strength swirling around him viciously, as if the black aura was biting the still air. He couldn't wait to get his hands on this Aizen guy. He had another thing coming if he thought he was going to get away with taking Grimmjow and damned near killing Nnoitra. Ichigo still couldn't get the sight of all of that blood out of his head. Poor Shinji. Ichigo couldn't imagine being in his best friend's shoes.

After what felt like hours of walking, they finally approached the enormous structure. It seemed to stretch towards the sky for days. Ichigo shook his head and snorted.

"You think he's overcompensating for something?"

Shiro cackled again, this time slapping his leg in amusement. "King, yer on a roll taday."

Ichigo wanted to find humor in the situation, but his thoughts had gone back to Grimmjow. A familiar presence blanketed his senses, and he bent over at the waist, gasping for air. He inhaled through his nose and almost keeled over in shock.

 _Grimm_.

He could literally feel Grimmjow somewhere in the building. That had never happened to him before. He turned to his father, who was watching him warily.

"Are you alright, my son?"

"I-I...I can _feel_ him. He's here. I know it."

Isshin nodded. "You have an intimate bond with the prince."

Ichigo blushed furiously as he peered at his father. "What are you talking about?"

"Now is not the time time to play dumb, Ichigo. We can only detect another's presence so acutely after a romantic relationship has been established."

"What he's tryin' ta say, King, is once ya've had sex with somebody ya got feelins for, you'll be able ta sense that person. 'Specially now that yer natural instincts have been unblocked," Shiro drawled with a smirk.

His face was absolutely on fire. This was _not_ the way he'd wanted his old man to find about him and Grimmjow. Well, shit. The cat was out of the bag now.

"S-so...does that mean he can sense me, too?" he asked as he straightened himself.

The abrupt sensation wasn't so bad now. In fact, it hummed through his body, but it didn't hinder his breathing anymore.

"It's possible," Isshin grunted as he averted his eyes.

Ichigo frowned at that, but before he could ask what was on his mind, Urahara stepped forward. "It all depends on the state that Grimmjow-kun is in, Kurosaki-kun. Pain dulls the senses."

That put a fire under his ass. He stalked towards the first door he saw, hands drawn into tight fists. He didn't care if he had to knock down every last wall in this place: he was going to find Grimmjow. As he approached the door, a hairless being in a long, white robe strode in his direction.

"Who are you?" the creature barked. Ichigo frowned. It wasn't a fairy, but it wasn't human, either. "Why are you here?"

"Ha! I think the better question here is what the fuck are _you_?"

The creature's face was a mottled gray, and it had a large, bulbous nose that took up half its face. The rest was eaten up by its lopsided mouth that was filled with brown, rotting teeth. Its eyes were dark and beady, and good grief, did it _reek_.

"P.U., bro!" Ichigo snapped as he held his nose. "They don't have showers around here?"

"Do you insult me?" it barked, spit flying from its mouth.

"Oh, my God, you're disgusting," Ichigo mumbled, feeling like he was about to be sick all over the place.

The creature's face crumpled with rage as it reached for the sword it carried at its side. "I'll show you disgusting, you filth!"

Before the creature's sword even left its scabbard, the creature was sliced in two. Ichigo's eyebrows hid beneath his bangs. Shiro nonchalantly sheathed his sword and turned to Ichigo with a shrug.

"He was gettin' on mah nerves."

A dark viscous fluid flowed around the creatures body for a few moments before it disintegrated into the air. Well, that was different.

"What was that all about?" he asked, facing Gin, who seemed to know a lot about this place. "And what the hell was that thing?"

"That was a troll. Aizen employs all manners of creatures to do his dirty work so that he won't have to. And all beings in Faery disintegrate when they pass on."

Ichigo poked out his lip, impressed. "Cool."

Now that the troll had been dealt with, they were free to move forward to the door. Ichigo hoped they had a little more time before they were found out. It'd be great to have Grimmjow in his arms before he beheaded Aizen. Gin pushed against the door gently before his head disappeared inside. He pulled back and turned to the rest of the group, his face calm.

"There are two guards down the hall once we enter. We need to-"

Byakuya interrupted as he unsheathed his sword. "Leave it to me."

Gin moved away from the door, allowing Byakuya to slip past him. It seemed like merely seconds had ticked by before the dark-haired man swung open the door. Ichigo stepped inside first, curious as a cat. He looked over Byakuya's shoulder, and his eyebrows automatically raised. The two guards Gin had warned them of were lying on the floor in pools of black blood, their bodies slowly disintegrating.

"Well, damn. I didn't even hear 'em scream or anything," Ichigo mumbled.

"They did not see me coming."

"Yeah, no shit. So! That's three down and...how many to go?"

Gin shook his head. "Aizen has hundreds of servants at his disposal."

"Aww, maaannn. That kinda sucks."

Shiro chuckled as he made his way down the hall towards the two fallen guards. "Don' worry, King. Ya still got me."

Ichigo almost snorted until he remembered how quickly Shiro had taken out that first guard. Maybe he was right about that. The group moved through the halls silently, every guard falling to its death before it could even realize what was going on. Until they ran into the pink-haired creep that had been at the apartment with Aizen.

Ichigo pulled up short, his lips curling into a snarl. He wanted to kill everyone that'd had a hand in that incident, but before he could draw his sword, Gin stepped forward. His eyes were open, and the irises were blood red.

"I'll take this one, your highness. Find the prince."

Ichigo wanted to protest, but Urahara placed a hand on his shoulder. "Leave it. You alone can find Grimmjow by his aura. Can you still feel it?"

Ichigo went quiet as he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Grimmjow's scent and presence thrummed through him. When he opened his eyes, he pointed past the pink-haired fairy. "He's that way."

"Let's go. Gin, be careful, if you would, please," Urahara stated. His voice was playful, but his eyes were serious as a grave.

"Yes, Uncle."

"How adorable," the pink-haired fairy commented as he adjusted his glasses. "To assume that you could bypass me so easily. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Come now. Do not presume to insult my abilities."

Gin's eyes closed as he grinned. "Mah, mah. I wouldn' dare." The smile disappeared and those red eyes were back. "I jus' trust mine more than I care about yours."

Ichigo watched the exchange, tense. Gin didn't have a sword, but neither did that pink-haired fairy. Then, Ichigo remembered Gin's magic and relaxed. He'd be OK. He _had_ to be. Ichigo decided to head in the direction that he felt Grimmjow, but as he moved forward, an invisible wall was thrown up, blocking his progress. He growled under his breath, angry with the hindrance. His old man came forward, reaching for his sword, but Ichigo held up a hand. He didn't speak, he just unsheathed his sword, anger causing his strength to whip around him and the dark steel. He brought the sword over his head and sliced an arc to the ground. The magic of the wall crumbled under the power of Ichigo's birthright. He stalked through the gap and glared at the pink-haired fairy, who stared at him in calm shock.

"Don't fuck with me," Ichigo snarled before stomping away. "I'm not in the mood."

XOXOXO

His body felt like a tight knot of agony. Aizen had just left Grimmjow's quarters, and he'd been even more brutal than usual. Grimmjow's refusal to sleep with him had only made things worse. He wiped his nose and mouth on the back of his hand and winced at the abundance of blood. It dripped onto his chest, but he didn't bother to staunch the flow. Why should he? Aizen would only return and reopen every wound he'd previously created.

He was in the depths of despair. He only wanted to leave this place and possibly see Ichigo again. The optimism and strength he'd garnered before this last beating had completely left him. He had no one to help him, no one who even cared. Would he survive this? Not if he kept turning aside Aizen's advances. Yet, he refused to lie with the man. He wouldn't soil himself after experiencing such a beautiful act with the man he loved. Grimmjow hung his head, making the blood flow faster from his nose. Maybe if he died, the pain would go away. He'd see his parents again, at least. His sister would be upset and Nnoitra would be pissed, but...he couldn't take it anymore. Every shred of pride and dignity he'd owned was gone. He was a pet, a plaything. And he couldn't even hope to escape because he didn't have his birthright. His head went light from the loss of blood, but it dulled the pain, so he welcomed it. He'd decided. He wouldn't be able to see Ichigo this way, anyway, so what was the point of going on? He had no hope.

The door to his quarters crashed open, jerking his head upright in shock. Had Aizen come back to finish him off? Dust clouded his vision from the destroyed door, so he was unable to see who stood in the doorway. All he could make out was a dark silhouette, but the voice was unmistakable.

"Grimm?"

He shook his head, not believing it for an instance. Aizen had gone to new lengths with his cruelty. The figure entered the room, and Grimmjow's composure crumbled. He _saw_ Ichigo striding towards him. He _saw_ the orange hair and concerned brown eyes. He even _smelled_ the familiar scent. But he couldn't believe it. He _wouldn't_. He shrank away from the fake Ichigo, growling.

"You cruel bastard! Take his face off! How dare you mock me this way?"

The imposter stopped in front of him and lowered himself to the bed, brown eyes wet. Fake Ichigo's bottom lip trembled as he held out both hands and framed Grimmjow's face with them.

"It's me, Grimm. It's _me_. I'm here."

Grimmjow stared into Fake Ichigo's eyes, anger roiling within him, but once he lowered his guard enough to feel for the imposter's presence, it hit him like a ton of rocks.

"Ichigo?" he croaked.

Ichigo nodded, a lone tear making its way down his face. "That's right. I'm here to take you home, Grimm."

He was different. Ichigo had the ears of a fairy, and power surrounded him like a cloak. He wore Faery garb, and he had a sword strapped to his back. But...his aura reached forward and wrapped itself around Grimmjow, confirming what his eyes couldn't believe. Grimmjow touched Ichigo's cheek, and the warmth seeped into his hand, inviting and familiar.

"It's really you. You came for me."

Ichigo scoffed through a chuckle. "Of course, I did. You didn't think I'd let that asshole keep you, did you? You're mine."

"But you...you wear the clothes of my people. And you have our ears. And your power is _extraordinary_. What _happened_ to you?"

"I'll explain later. Right now, we gotta get you out of here."

"We?"

At that moment, Urahara, Shirosaki, Byakuya and Ichigo's father stepped into the room. They had come to rescue him, and here he thought no one cared enough to do so. He'd been ready to die. Grimmjow laughed in disbelief as he wrapped his arms around Ichigo in a tight hug.

"I'm so glad to see you. I thought I was going to perish."

"Won't be any perishing around here, hot stuff. Now, let's go. We kinda made a bit of a ruckus on the way here."

Grimmjow was overwhelmed with surprise and happiness. He was honestly too stunned to do much more than nod his head. He couldn't get over the changes in the orange-haired man. It was unnerving how powerful and commanding he seemed. Before Grimmjow could stand, Ichigo gripped his face and stared into his eyes.

"He did this to you?"

Grimmjow's pride reared its head for the first time in a long time. He brushed away Ichigo's hand and shook his head.

"It's nothing."

"Like hell it is," Ichigo growled. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Not if I get to him first," Grimmjow said before wiping his nose and mouth on the short jacket he wore. Ichigo started to climb to his feet, but Grimmjow grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him. The others in the room be damned. He'd missed Ichigo so much. When he pulled back, Ichigo's eyes were wide and his face was flushed. "I've missed this."

Ichigo's brown eyes blinked before he cleared his throat and nodded, his blush rising up over his ears. When he spoke, his voice was unusually deep and husky. "I missed _you_. Just you."

They shared an intimate moment before Urahara interrupted. "Ah-ah. As much as I hate to put an end to such a charming scene, I believe we have an entire army after us, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo sighed, afterward kissing Grimmjow one last time. "Yeah, I know. Let's go."

Grimmjow tried to stand with Ichigo, but his legs gave out on him, and he ended up crumpling back to the bed in excruciating pain. He gripped his knees where Aizen had hit him repeatedly. He wouldn't be able to walk out of there as easily as the others. He looked up at Ichigo and thinned his lips.

"I can't walk right now," he mumbled, ashamed of his helplessness.

Ichigo moved to help, but his father made it first. Grimmjow's eyes grew as he looked into the solemn, dark eyes. "It'd be an honor to help you, your highness. Ichigo needs his hands free in order to deal with Aizen."

"Aizen is too strong!" Grimmjow immediately protested, afraid for Ichigo's life.

Ichigo's sire chuckled as he stooped and wrapped an arm around Grimmjow's waist, lifting him from the bed with ease. Grimmjow's eyebrows raised in shock. He was a big man, and he knew he weighed more than the average human could handle on its own, so why was this man able to heft him with such nonchalance? When he caught the dark-eyed gaze of Ichigo's father, the man winked.

"Isshin Kurosaki, crowned King of Clan Eieren, at your service."

Grimmjow's mouth dropped open as he turned to Ichigo. Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck as he grinned crookedly.

"Guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?"

Grimmjow scowled. "What cat? What bag?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and turned towards the destroyed doorway. "Never mind, Grimm. Jeez, ya gotta get with the times, man."

Grimmjow was stunned. Even after finding out that the royal family of Eieren was still alive, knowing for a fact that Ichigo was a part of it... Nnoitra had been right. He allowed his thoughts to turn to his best friend. Why wasn't he there? Had something happened to him?

They traveled the halls, Ichigo, Shirosaki and Byakuya mowing down any guards or servants that appeared before them. However, once they approached the throne room doors, ice and dread filled Grimmjow until he was trembling. He couldn't help it. It was like his body had a mind of its own. He could feel the malice leaking from behind those closed doors, and he was beginning to panic. The Eieren King tightened his hold on Grimmjow's waist.

"You're safe now. Ichigo is stronger than you think."

Grimmjow took a few deep breaths, his body slowly relaxing the longer he stared at his orange-haired lover's back. Ichigo seemed taller, and he definitely seemed stronger. The swirling black and red aura surrounding him gave Grimmjow goosebumps. The throne room doors lazily swung open, revealing Aizen seated on his throne. Grimmjow swallowed harshly as he glared up at the evil fairy, wearing a serene expression.

"Well...isn't this a pleasant surprise. You've brought me more slaves. Or more fairies to slaughter. I can't decide which one I'd like just yet."

"Lemme help you with that," Ichigo called to him as he strode into the throne room, his gait confident. "You don't need to worry about anymore slaves or fairies to kill or any of that shit...because this is where you die!"

Aizen smirked as he steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "I look forward to it."


End file.
